


Mend These Broken Pieces

by lfg1986



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 73,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22339360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lfg1986/pseuds/lfg1986
Summary: After a huge fight with Timmy about the state of their friendship and his marriage, Armie receives a phone call from Timmy's mother, telling him that Timmy has been in a serious accident.  Dropping everything else, Armie flies to New York to be at Timmy's side, which doesn't help his already strained marriage.  Timmy's road to recovery is long, with many ups and downs, but Armie is determined to be there for him through it all.  But when Timmy questions his motives for putting his life on hold to be with him, Armie is forced to come to terms with the true nature of his feelings toward Timmy, and what it means for the life he's built himself.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 453
Kudos: 674





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Uhh hi! Yes, it's me again, lol. I actually started this fic 6 months ago, but my life kinda went haywire before I could do much with it, and I decided to just focus on my existing WIPs to keep from being too overwhelmed. So now that things have settled and I have a decent amount of free time AND inspiration to write (apparently both are important, imagine that, lol), I am coming back to things that I wanted to do for a long time. And this is the first of them. There's a shocking lack of real hurt/comfort fics in this fandom, so I decided to fix that. ;) I hope you guys like it!
> 
> Also, small PSA, Liz in this is not the nicest person ever, but I'm trying hard not to turn her into an outright villian. She's not. But she's a woman whose marriage is not in a great place, and it brings out some not great parts of both her AND Armie. Just wanted to make that clear, for those who are bothered by Liz being portrayed as a heinous bitch. It's not my intention to do that here. :)
> 
> As always, comments are appreciated and treasured. <333

“Come on, Armie, you know I’m right.”

“The fuck I do!”

“You’re not even trying to deny it!”

“Because I’m trying to remember the phrase for ‘butt the fuck out’ in French, maybe then you’d take the hint!”

“Oh nice, real mature. Who’s supposed to be 9 years older in this relationship? Fuck, Armie. I’m just worried about you, ok?!”

“Well, don’t be. It’s none of your fucking business. I’m fine, we’re fine, everything’s _fine_. And I don’t need you trying to tell me how to live my life, thanks.”

“I’m _not_! I just see you backsliding to how you were before Crema and it scares me. You’ve come such a long way in opening yourself up and letting yourself be who you are instead of who everyone else wants you to be, and I can’t bear to see you stacking those walls back up when you fought so hard to tear them down. Just please, don’t let her dictate your life in ways you don’t really want. It’s ok to say no sometimes.”

“Timmy, just back off, ok?! This has nothing to do with you. You’re not here, you have no idea what goes on in my marriage.”

“I…I know that, I just…I want you to be happy, and. I’m don’t…I’m not sure you know what that really means.”

“You know what, _fuck you_ , Chalamet! I’m over this bullshit.”

Armie pushes the button to hang up the call, throwing his phone across the kitchen in frustration and bracing his arms on the edge of the counter. His phone clatters across the floor and skids to a stop as it hits the edge of one of the stools situated around the island in the middle of the room. 

He lets out a loud “Fuck!” and slams his eyes closed, trying to shake off the nagging feeling of guilt from apparently disappointing Timmy on top of everything else going on in his life right now. He hears the clicking of heels coming into the room and lets out a heavy sigh. “What’s going on in here?”

He slowly lifts his head to meet his wife’s questioning gaze, annoyance clear in her tone. “Nothing. It’s nothing, ok? Timmy and I just…we got into a bit of an argument and I’m just frustrated. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Elizabeth’s eyes narrow at the mention of Timmy’s name, an almost Pavlovian response as of late, and Armie rolls his eyes at the predictability of it all. They’d been fighting a lot more lately. Every time Timmy called, Liz would stiffen and make some unnecessary remark about how ‘it’s been 5 years, babe, shouldn’t he try to move on? _You_ have.’ 

For a while he fought to defend Timmy, reminding her of the fact that they were like brothers, so of course Timmy’s going to call. But the more he tried to explain the unique bond he and Timmy still shared, even years after Call Me By Your Name was long over, the more she dug her heels in about it. At some point it just became easier to go along with her instead of constantly butting heads about it. So the calls got shorter and he picked up less frequently, texting apologies and throwing out hollow promises to catch up soon.

So when Timmy finally got fed up and called him out on it, he instantly got defensive. He wanted to believe he was doing the right thing for his family, prioritizing his wife’s feelings, but there was a nagging in his gut that wouldn’t go away when Timmy accused him of letting her run his life. But he’d always been a stubborn bastard, so he wasn’t about to admit that Timmy might be right.

Liz crosses her arms and scoffs. “Honestly, Arms, I don’t understand why he’s still clinging to you so hard, or why you encourage it. He’s young and beautiful, he should be going out with pretty girls his own age, not…whatever he’s trying to do with you. It’s not healthy.”

Armie feels his blood pressure spike and he clenches his fingers around the edge of the marble countertop. “Drop it, Liz.” It’s said through clenched teeth and she must hear the warning in his tone loud and clear, because she simply rolls her eyes in an exasperated fashion and retreats back into the living room without another word.

Armie takes several deep breaths to try to calm himself down. Once he doesn’t feel like punching the wall any longer, he decides to pour himself a glass of whiskey and try to forget about his fight with Timmy.

He’s just sat down at with his glass, swirling the dark liquid around the bottom and about to take a sip, when his phone starts ringing from where it was still laying on the ground next to the table. He instantly recognizes the custom ringtone he set for Timmy, and he closes his eyes with a sigh. He reaches down to grab the phone, staring at it with a mixture of curiosity and dread for a few too many seconds before it stops, sending Timmy to voicemail.

It’s just as well, he’s not really ready for round two just yet. He sets the phone down on the table and picks up his glass again. But a few seconds later, it rings again, Timmy’s name flashing across the screen once more. He quirks his head in confusion. Timmy could be persistent, but usually not to _this_ extent. Still, he knows if he tries to talk to him now, it’ll just go to shit, and he doesn’t want to make things worse. He lets the phone ring until the call is once again sent to voicemail, hoping that maybe Timmy will take the hint and just give him some time.

But when his phone goes off a third time less than a minute later, he’s over it. He swipes to answer the call, voice tight with annoyance. “Listen man, I just need some time to cool off before – “

“Armie?! Oh thank god!” Armie stops short. The voice on the other line is decidedly _not_ Timmy. It takes him a second to place who it is, as her tone is unusually harried and frantic, but then it hits him.

“Mama C? What’s going on?” The fact that Timmy’s mom was calling him from Timmy’s phone, several times in a row, couldn’t mean anything good.

“Oh god, Armie! It’s Timmy…he’s…there’s been an – an accident. He was out walking, and this car just…It’s bad, Armie. I’m not sure…” She stops, emotion overwhelming her to the point where she can barely choke out the words.

Armie’s blood turns to ice as Nicole’s words hit him. There’s a humming in his ears and his vision blurs for several seconds as he tries to process what this means. “Is he…he’s not…I mean he’s going to be ok, right?” He can’t even begin to process the thought that Timmy might not come out of this perfectly intact.

“They’re taking him into surgery right now. He’s lost a lot of blood, and they’re worried about internal injuries. I just…oh god, I can’t lose my baby!” The sound of her desperate sob across the line spurs Armie into action, immediately jumping up from the table, knocking over his glass of whiskey in the process, and stalking toward the stairs.

“No, listen to me, you’re not going to lose him, ok?! Timmy’s a fighter. He’s stubborn and determined. He’s going to be _fine_. I’ll be on the next flight out, just hang on for a few more hours.”

He hears sniffling and a quiet whimper on the other end. “Oh no, you really don’t have to.” It’s a weak protest and they both know it. He remembers that Pauline and Timmy’s dad are both in France for the summer, so Nicole doesn’t have much immediate support right now. And it’s _Timmy_.

“I’m coming.” His tone leaves no room for further argument, and he can hear her let out a long exhale on the other end of the line.

“ _Thank you_.” 

It comes out almost a whine, the desperation and fear in her voice wrapping around each other as she faces the prospect of losing her youngest child, and if Armie stopped long enough to really let it wash over him, he’d probably start breaking down right along with her. But he doesn’t have time for that right now. 

He’s reached his bedroom and it frantically throwing things into a bag, hardly even paying attention to what he’s packing as he tries to move as fast as he can. He grabs enough for a couple days’ worth of outfits, deciding anything beyond that he can figure out later, once he has more concrete information about the situation.

He grabs his phone charger and wallet, calls an Uber because driving in his current state would probably not end well, and is flying back downstairs two minutes later.

He’s almost out the door when Liz’s huffy voice stops him. “What the hell is going on? Where are you going?”

“New York. Timmy’s been in an accident. I have to go.” 

He turns back to the door and is halfway through when her shrill voice stops him again. “You’re just going to up and fly across the country in the middle of the night?! Do you know how insane that is?!”

His hand closes painfully around the doorknob as he turns his head back to look directly at her. “I don’t care.” It’s said through clenched teeth, his tone serious and deadly, daring her to try to fight him on this. When she just stares back at him slack-jawed and clearly shocked by his ferocity, he softens ever so slightly. “I’ll call you when I have more information. Tell the kids I love them.”

And with that, he’s out the door and hurrying down the driveway to where his Uber just pulled up. The ride to the airport and getting through security are a blur, his mind unable to focus on anything but getting to Timmy as fast as he can. Luckily, the last direct flight to NYC of the day leaves in less than an hour, and he doesn’t even blink when he books the last available seat in first class.

Once he’s settled on the plane, he desperately wants a drink to calm his nerves, but he restrains himself, wanting to be as alert and coherent as possible when he lands. He puts on a movie to keep his restless thoughts from giving him a panic attack, but he barely pays attention to what’s going on. All he can see is the nightmarish image of Timmy covered in blood, body broken and twisted.

He’s the first one off the plane when it lands, making a beeline for the line of cabs outside the airport. He makes it to the hospital just before 2 am, storming into the emergent care wing without a care that it was way past visiting hours. The look on his face must be deadly, because no one even attempts to stop him.

He finds Nicole in the waiting room, knees drawn up to her chest sitting in one of the uncomfortable chairs there. Her frantic eyes immediately well with tears when she sees him, and within seconds he’s got her pulled into a tight embrace, desperately trying to ground them both as he hangs onto her just as hard as she is to him.

They stay that way for several minutes before she finally pulls back, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. He sees a fresh batch of tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, so he tries to distract her by moving to sit down, his hands never leaving hers as they settle back into the chairs, prepared to wait however long until the next update of Timmy’s progress.

It’s over an hour before a doctor finally comes out and approaches them. “Mrs. Chalamet? I’m Dr. Stein. Your son came through surgery ok and is in recovery now. He’s stable, but he sustained some serious injuries from the impact of the car, including several bone fractures and a mild concussion. Luckily, there was no major organ damage, but we’re monitoring him for any internal bleeding that may occur. The first 48 hours are crucial to make sure his wounds are healing properly. We’ll be moving him to a private room in a little while, then you can go in and see him. I’ll come back to let you know when he’s settled.”

Armie can feel Nicole let out a huge breath of relief, her whole body sagging against his as she lets the doctor’s words sink in. He squeezes her hand in support but stays silent, not wanting to overwhelm either her or the doctor with the thousands of questions he still had about Timmy’s condition. The most important thing was that it sounded like Timmy was going to be ok.

They thank Dr. Stein and sit back down to resume waiting. After half an hour, the adrenaline that had been flooding his system since he first picked up Nicole’s phone call starts to wane, so he goes to get them both a coffee. 

As he’s rounding the corner of the waiting room, he stops short when he sees Nicole talking with the doctor, his hand on her arm as he speaks in a hushed voice. He hesitates, torn between his desire to know everything the doctor is saying and not wanting to intrude where it isn’t his place. It’s only another few seconds before Dr. Stein is called away to take care of another patient, so he slowly makes his way over to Nicole, extending the arm that was carrying the coffee he’d gotten for her.

She bypasses it in favor of falling into his chest with a shaky breath. “They said I could go see him now. But he’s…he’s still unconscious and they don’t know when he’ll wake up or what he’ll remember.”

Ice trickles down his spine at her words, but he does his best to keep from showing any outward signs of distress, knowing he needs to hold it together and be a support for her right now. He does his best to hold her to him, careful not to spill the contents of either cup of coffee he’s still holding. “Shhh, ok. It’s ok. Just…go see your son. He might not be awake, but you can still talk to him. Sometimes they can still hear things even in an unconscious state.”

Nicole sniffles quietly before pulling back and looking up at him, and he sees the quiet determination settle in her eyes as she nods, preparing herself for what she was about to see when she walked into Timmy’s hospital room.

Quickly setting the coffee cups down, he gives her hand a gentle squeeze and leans in to kiss her temple. She whispers a barely audible “thank you” before moving away down the hall in the direction of Timmy’s room.

Once alone, he drops heavily onto the chair behind him, suddenly too drained to stay standing a second longer. His thoughts are fuzzy and undefined, the stress of the last several hours making it hard to focus. He reaches for his cup of coffee, desperate to have something to do with his hands. He mindlessly sips on the lukewarm liquid, barely tasting it as it travels down his throat and pools in his belly.

When he finishes his own cup, he starts to drink the one he brought for Nicole, hoping the extra shot of caffeine will help keep him awake. It’s nearly 5 am and he’s starting to fade, but he knows he won’t be able to actually sleep anyway.

Minutes or hours pass by, he isn’t sure anymore. He’s too busy watching the parade of nurses, doctors, and other patients as they shuffle through the waiting room on the way to wherever else they are going to keep track. He’s practically fallen into a trance when he blinks and suddenly Nicole is standing in front of him again.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, he stands to wrap his sturdy arms around her shivering frame. As he guides her to sit back down beside him, he desperately wants to ask about Timmy, but he doesn’t want to push her. She’s clearly fragile right now, like the smallest thing could completely shatter her. He doesn’t want to risk being the cause of that.

So they sit. For long minutes, she doesn’t say anything, just leans her head on his shoulder. Every so often he hears a sniffle or a tiny sob escape her lips, but he just keeps her hand closed securely in his and waits.

Eventually, Dr. Stein comes back to give another update. “He’s still stable, which is a very good sign. There’s no sign of brain damage that we can tell, but the real test will be when he wakes up. And that’s totally up to him. So for now, we’re monitoring his progress and hoping that he regains consciousness soon.”

The news should give him some kind of relief. Timmy was going to be ok – he would heal and they would be given a chance to fix things between them. But there’s a pit in his stomach that he knows won’t relent until he can actually see Timmy for himself.

“I want to see him.”

The man in front of him casts a skeptical glance between him and Nicole. “Are you family?”

Before Armie even has a chance to decide which random relative he could possibly pass for, Nicole speaks up for him. “Yes, he is.”

The feeling that spreads through his chest is something akin to pride mixed with an ache for something he never really had with his own family. It’s not the first time Nicole has made a comment essentially claiming him as one of the Chalamet clan, but hearing her declare it in such a matter-of-fact way in this instance is a bit overwhelming. 

Even though Nicole’s tone is firm, Dr. Stein still hesitates, the wary look in his eyes finally giving way to kindness and sympathy as he sees the desperation reflected back at him. “Ok, you can go in, but not for too long.”

After thanking the doctor profusely and checking to be sure Nicole would be ok by herself for a bit, he makes his way down the maze of hallways that would finally bring him to Timmy.

The room number on the wall beside the door has a sort of ominous glow to it, and Armie tries to rationalize it as simply the lighting in the hallway hitting it in a weird way, but it doesn’t stop the tightening in his chest as his hand closes around the doorknob.

A sudden wave of icy fear rolls through him, freezing his movements. It occurs to him that he has no idea what he will find on the other side of the door. In the hours since he received the phone call about the accident, a million horrific images have flooded through his brain, but once he crosses that threshold, it will all be _real_. There will be no going back, no way to unsee the image of Timmy’s battered body lying there.

After taking several deep breaths, his eyes close in a silent prayer as he forces himself to push open the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! I am back with another chapter of this lovely angstfest, lol. I was totally blown away by the reception of the first chapter, and I'm very humbled and honored to be able to provide something for those in this fandom who love the hurt/comfort genre as much as I do. I hope you continue to enjoy what I have in store for these boys, painful though it may be at times. I do want to reiterate that this is NOT a deathfic, or anything resembling that. There's lot of angst and complicated feelings, but nothing super dark here. So you can set your minds at ease in that regard. ;)
> 
> This chapter is a bit on the long-ish side (though not really, by my standards, lol), but it involves 3 rather key scenes that I really needed to have be all in this one chapter as a way to set things up for the main plot going forward. So there's a lot of exposition and dialogue here, but it's important. Future chapters won't be quite as slow moving, I promise.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the wonderful comments. You guys are the best! <333
> 
> Enjoy!

A rhythmic beeping noise is the first thing he hears before he even finds the strength to open his eyes, followed by a hiss of air being pushed out. The feeling of his fingernails digging into his palm is just painful enough to let him know he isn’t in some kind of crazy nightmare, as much as he wishes that were the case. 

When he finally blinks open his eyes, they are immediately drawn to the large, scary-looking tube coming out of Timmy’s mouth. Swallowing around the lump in his throat at the sight, his gaze slowly wanders over the rest of Timmy’s body as it lays still on the stark-white hospital bed. There are matching casts on his right arm and leg, and a small boot cast on his left foot. A brace is wrapped around his right wrist, and a couple patches of gauze adorn his upper arm. Several small cuts and bruises cover his face and neck, and there’s a large bandage placed above his right eye, and Armie can only imagine the gash that must be underneath.

A vice squeezes around his lungs as he takes in the full scope of Timmy’s injuries. Everything about this scene screams _wrong_. Timmy is always so physically free, throwing his whole body into everything he does. Seeing him lying there so completely still, tied down by tubes and wires and heavy plaster feels like it goes against the very laws of nature.

He suddenly can’t breathe, lungs refusing to fill with air no matter how many times his brain tells them to. He stumbles backwards through the still-open door, back landing against the wall of the hallway as he hunches over and begins to dry heave. Tears prick the edges of his eyes as he finally allows all the emotions from the past hours rise to the surface, spilling out into the empty hallway while Timmy lays eerily quiet on the other side of the door.

Once the dry heaving stops, he slides down the wall, knees up to his chin as he begins to sob in earnest. He has no idea how long he sits there until the tears finally stop flowing and he fights to regain some kind of composure. Fear and guilt claw at him, but he pushes them down and brings himself to his feet once more, wiping at his face and readjusting his clothing.

When he opens the door this time, he forces himself to keep moving into the room, not stopping until he reaches the small plastic chair set up by the side of the bed. He lowers himself down gingerly, as if trying not to wake a sleeping baby. The logical part of his brain knows how absurd that is. He could probably bring in an 8 piece brass band to play at full volume and Timmy wouldn’t even stir. The thought brings a fresh wave of tears crowding into the corner of his eyes, but he blinks them back, determined to reign in his emotions for a little longer.

His hands fidget in his lap, not knowing what to do with them. Every instinct is telling him to reach out and touch Timmy, hold his hand, stroke his arm, tuck his wild curls behind his ear. But he’s too afraid that any touch might somehow cause Timmy more pain, and he can’t bear the thought of that. So his hands remain in his lap, twisting together until the tips of his fingers turn white. 

Every time he opens his mouth to try and say something, no words come out. All the thoughts swirling in his head seem too big, too heavy to voice out loud. He cycles through about 20 emotions per minute as he stares at Timmy’s prone form – fear, guilt, anger, helplessness, desperation – never able to process any of them fully before the next one is shoving its way to the forefront. 

He’s barely been there ten minutes when a nurse comes in to check Timmy’s vitals and tells him he shouldn’t be in there. But when he looks at her with pleading eyes, she relents, telling him he can have five more minutes, but then he needs to go back to the waiting room until visiting hours officially begin.

He spends every second of those five minutes whispering “I’m sorry” over and over again, pleading for Timmy to wake up and tell him this has all been a terrible mistake. He doesn’t. 

When his five minutes are up, he’s sorely tempted to ignore the nurse’s orders and just stay by Timmy’s side, but he doesn’t want to risk being banned from the room entirely. But before he turns to leave, he leans over to talk directly into Timmy’s ear.

“You fight this, you hear me? I can’t lose you, not like this. And I know that’s selfish and unfair and I probably don’t any right to say it after everything, but it’s the truth. I need the chance to make things right, but I can’t do that if you don’t come out of this. So _please_.” His voice breaks on the last word and he has to turn his face away, suddenly unable to face the vision of Timmy’s broken body any longer. As he straightens back up, he whispers one more barely audible, “Please,” the only way he even knows he spoke it out loud is by the warm puff of air he feels ghost over his lips.

Once outside the room, he collapses back onto the closed door behind him for a few seconds as he collects himself, taking several deeps breaths until he’s calm enough to go back out to the waiting room and face Nicole again.

He finds her curled up asleep on the waiting room chair, neck tilted at an awkward angle that he knows will be stiff and sore if she stays like that much longer. He sits down next to her and wraps an arm around her, gently guiding her until her head is pillowed against his chest. She mumbles something unintelligible in her sleep and curls a hand into his shirt before settling against him again.

He takes several slow, deep breaths, mindful not to move too much so he doesn’t disturb Nicole, and tries to shut his brain off for a while. It doesn’t really work, but after a while all his thoughts run together to form a giant jumbled mess and he doesn’t have the mental energy to try and sort them out so that they make sense.

He must dose off at some point, because the next time he’s able to focus, there are several more people in the waiting room and the clock reads 8:39 a.m. Doctors and nurses scurry back and forth down various hallways holding clipboards and looking serious, while somewhere in the distance he can hear the tired cries of a small child.

His heart lurches, suddenly aching to hold Harper and Ford and never let them go. It’s then that he remembers that he hasn’t talked to Liz since he walked out the front door of their home in L.A., and he can only imagine the messages that will be waiting for him when he powers back on his phone, having completely forgotten its existence until now. But it isn’t even 6 a.m. in L.A. yet, and he can’t bear to wake Nicole, who is miraculously still sleeping peacefully on his chest, in order to reach his phone. He figures waiting another little while to call won’t be the end of the world.

It’s only another few minutes before a doctor he doesn’t recognize approaches them. “Are you the family of Mr. Chalamet?”

He nods, hesitating for a beat before deciding he really should wake Nicole. She would want to know what’s going on. He gently rubs her arm and murmurs her name softly, and within a few seconds, Nicole stirs and blinks up at him. “Armie? Wha – “ After a beat, she seems to recall where she is and why, immediately sitting up and turning a desperate gaze onto the doctor in front of them. “How is he?”

“Mrs. Chalamet, I’m Dr. Watson. Your son’s condition seems to be improving slightly. He’s breathing on his own now, so we’ve removed the tube from his throat. We’re still monitoring him closely until he regains consciousness and we know for sure if there was any cerebral damage. But for the moment, we are cautiously optimistic about his prognosis. But you need to prepare yourself for the possibility that he may suffer some memory loss due to the head injury. It’s usually only a temporary side-effect and is rarely a total loss, but we won’t know anything for sure until he wakes up.”

Armie can sense the mixture of relief and dread that Nicole must be feeling, because his own emotions are much the same. “Can I go back and be with him for longer now?”

“The nurse is changing the bandages on some of the deeper cuts he sustained when he hit the ground, but once they’re done, you will be allowed to go in for as long as you like, as long as his condition doesn’t worsen.”

A noise that sounds like a combination of a hiccup and a laugh comes from beside him, and he turns to see Nicole holding her hand over her mouth, tears of relief spilling down her cheeks. “Thank you.” It’s barely a whisper, but the doctor just gives her a small smile and nods to them both before moving back to the nurse’s station to get information about his next patient.

Armie can feel Nicole shivering beside him, and he reaches down and pulls out the bag he’d almost forgotten he’d brought and fishes out the first thing he can find that resembles something warm that he can cover her with. Being the middle of summer, he hadn’t exactly packed a lot of heavy clothes, but he’s suddenly grateful that he’d grabbed his favorite sweatshirt, old and faded as it might be.

Draping it across her back and arms, he pulls her into a sideways hug and rubs his hands up and down her arm to try and speed up the warming process. She falls against him and takes several deep breaths, trying to calm herself down again. After a minute, the shivering stops and her breathing evens out, and Armie closes his eyes against the urge to start crying himself.

“I don’t know how I can ever thank you for coming all the way out here to be with me like this.”

Armie’s eyes pop open and he looks down to find Nicole gazing up at him with shining eyes. Something in his heart breaks a little at the thought that he would possibly be anywhere else right now. “Of course I’m here for you. We’re family now, remember?” He tries to keep his smile light, but there’s a gravity to saying those words that he feels deep in the pit of his stomach.

Still, when he sees a tentative smile cross Nicole’s face, he knows it’s true. “Damn right, you are.” She nudges his shoulder with her own as her smile grows more confident, and Armie can’t stop the small bark of laughter that escapes his throat. It’s the first time he’s laughed in what feels like years, and the sound is almost foreign to his ears.

After a beat, Nicole sobers before adding, “And I know Timmy feels the same way.” 

Something dark forms in his mind, a shadow of doubt about the truth in that statement. “I don’t know. Our last phone call…we didn’t exactly end things on great terms. To be honest, I’m not sure he’s even going to want to see me when he does wake up.” He nervously picks at the skin around his thumbnail, unable to meet Nicole’s eyes despite feeling the heat of her gaze on his face.

A soft hand covers his, halting his movements. “I know you don’t really believe that.” Before he has a chance to say otherwise, she continues. “Listen, I know you guys had a bit of an argument when you spoke.” When his eyes snap up to hers in question, she only gives a small shrug. “Timmy was visiting with us and our apartment has thin walls. But the point is, none of that matters. People fight, they make up. It’s the nature of any kind of relationship. But he adores you, and that isn’t going to change because of one fight. I know he’ll be just as grateful to see you as I was.”

He wants nothing more than to believe in what she says, even if he still isn’t completely convinced. But there’s still something that doesn’t sit right with him, a gut feeling he hasn’t been able to shake since he picked up his phone hours ago. He’s been careful not to ask about the details of the accident, both to avoid making Nicole have to explain something so horrible but also because he’s terrified of what he will hear. But he can’t ignore it any longer. He needs to know the full truth of what happened.

“Nicole, I know this is incredibly difficult to talk about and I hate to ask but…what exactly happened?”

Nicole draws in a deep breath and he feels her tense at his question, and he hates himself for being selfish and making her do this. He’s just about to tell her never mind, that he doesn’t need an answer if it will cause her any more pain, when he hears her soft voice begin to speak. “He was walking, and he had his headphones on, as he always does. He was in the middle of a crosswalk with his head down when this car just…came out of nowhere. I guess he saw the lights just before the person hit him, but he wasn’t able to move completely out of the way in time. The car side-swiped him and he landed hard on the concrete. He was only a block our apartment.”

Her voice cracks on the last word, and Armie’s heart squeezes in his chest. He can’t imagine what it must have felt like to get that phone call. Getting the one he did from Nicole was horrific enough, but if it had been about Harper or Ford, he’s not sure what he would have done.

He squeezes her hand and she lets out a shuddering breath. “It’s ok, he’s going to be fine. He’s a fighter, and the doctor said he’s already improving.” She nods beside him but stays quiet, probably not sure she can trust her own voice.

But there’s still one piece missing, the one he’s dreaded asking about because deep down he already knows the truth. He waits a few beats, allowing her to settle again. “But…why was he even out walking then? You said he was with you when we were on the phone, and it couldn’t have been more than 20 minutes later when you called. Why did he leave?”

The way she goes completely still beside him tells him everything he needs to know, but he still needs to hear her actually say it. When she tilts her head up to meet his questioning gaze, he can see it written all over her face. “Armie…”

“ _Please_ , I need to know.”

She’s quiet for a long minute, and he’s torn between begging her to just say it and wanting to run as far away from there as he can to avoid hearing the truth. When she finally speaks again, her voice is much more clear and controlled. “He had said he wanted to get some fresh air, clear his head a little, but Armie – “

“ _Fuck_ , I knew it!”

Suddenly there are hands on both sides of his face, turning it so he’s forced to look directly into Nicole’s eyes. “Listen to me, this is _not_ your fault. It was a completely random accident and it had nothing to do with anything you did or didn’t do. The only person at fault here is the asshole who blew through the intersection without looking. You understand me? You have _nothing_ to feel guilty about.”

She pulls him to her and he buries his face in her neck as he fights like hell against the wave of nausea that swells within him when he thinks that this all might be because of him, despite Nicole’s attempts to reassure him. It isn’t even just about this last fight, but the culmination of things between them over the past several months that he wishes he could go back in time to fix in order to prevent things from ever getting to this point.

Cradled in Nicole’s loving embrace, he cries for all the time he’s lost, and prays that he can make things right so they don’t lose any more. They stay that way for long minutes until Armie is completely spent and finally pulls himself to sit up straight, clearing his throat and trying to shake off the heavy emotions.

There are so many other things he wants to say, but Nicole’s phone starts ringing before he has the chance. “It’s Marc, I gotta – “

“Of course.” He nods in understanding and Nicole quickly presses the button to answer the call from her husband. She ends up moving down the hall to find a quieter spot to talk, since a group of teenagers had come in a few minutes ago and were all talking over each other in obnoxiously loud voices.

Glancing at the clock, he figures at least one of the kids would have woken Liz up by now, so he reaches for his own phone and holds his breath while it powers on. Unsurprisingly, there are about a dozen missed calls and texts, and even one email from Liz, and the sting of guilt returns when he realizes how desperate she must have been to reach him if she’d resorted to that.

He decides going outside to have this particular conversation is probably for the best, so after motioning to Nicole to let her know, he finds his way to the exit and presses the button to dial Liz’s number.

It only rings once before the line connects and a rather irritated voice sounds from the other end. “Thank fuck you finally decided to call! Where the hell have you been for the past _twelve hours_ , Armie?! Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?! Or the kids, when they woke up and you weren’t here and I didn’t know what to tell them because you _never called me_ to tell me you were ok?!”

Bile rises up in his throat at the mention of the kids, the last thing he ever wanted was to worry or scare them. “ _Fuck_ , I’m so sorry, babe. I know I fucked up, I should have called earlier.”

“You’re damn right, you should have!”

“I know, I know. Look, it’s been an intense few hours for me and it just slipped my mind. I really do feel terrible. I never meant to scare any of you.” He hears an exasperated huff on the other end, but then silence. “How _are_ the kids?”

There’s a long pause and then a quiet sigh before she answers. “They’re fine. I took them to stay with Niki for the day.”

“What, why?”

“Because, _Armie_ , I didn’t know what the fuck was going on, if you even made it to New York or if I would need to hop on a plane at a moment’s notice to come find you. So yeah, I left them with Niki until I could confirm you were actually alive.”

Underneath the anger and bitterness in her voice, he can hear the hint of fear and panic that she tries to push down. But after being married to her for over a decade, he’s learned how to listen for the true meaning behind her words. “I am so sorry I put you through that. You’re right, I should have called you the minute I landed. I just…” He stops, knowing mentioning Timmy right now wouldn’t be the best idea.

It doesn’t matter much in the end, as she seems to know exactly what he was going to say. There’s a long beat before Liz’s voice comes back over the line. “How’s T- “ She cuts herself off, and Armie can hear the deep exhale she lets out before she starts again. “How is he?”

He tries not to let it bother him that she can’t bring herself to say his name, even now. It’s been a particular sore spot in their marriage for a long time, especially in the last year. The more he mentions Timmy by name, the more she refuses to. The few times he’s attempted to have an actual discussion about it have ended in tears and yelling, so after a while he just stopped trying. Things had gotten a little better when he pulled back from Timmy some, but she still has never quite understood the true depths of their bond or why it’s lasted so long after the movie was over.

“He’s….fuck, it’s pretty bad. The doctors seem to think he’ll be ok eventually, but to just look at him…it’s terrifying. He hasn’t even woken up yet, so they don’t know for sure if there’s been any brain damage, though they don’t think so. It’s just so fucking scary to think about, you know? I mean, it’s _Timmy_.”

Liz is quiet for a long time, but he doesn’t sense any anger in the silence. When she speaks again, her tone is noticeably softer, more concerned. “Do you want me to fly out there? It might take me a day or two, but I can move some things around and bring the kids with me so we can all be together while you wait.”

And just like that, he’s reminded of the woman he fell in love with all those years ago. It’s been harder to see her lately as things have been tense and they are both constantly exhausted by trying to keep up with two small kids while also having crazy hectic careers. But then moments like this happen and he sees the glimpses of their past, when they were so happy and in love and there for each other through anything.

“I really appreciate that. But maybe you should hold off until we know more about what his recovery process will be. And I think if the kids saw him in his current state, it might scare them. It’s really not something they ever need to have in their minds. Hell, I wish I could erase it from mine.”

“I’m sorry this has been so hard for you. And I wouldn’t want to subject the kids to anything like that, either. But just how long are you planning to stay out there?”

He sighs, knowing there’s no right answer here. So he goes with the truth. “I don’t know, as long as I need to, I guess.”

“I don’t understand, what does that mean? He has his whole family there to help take care of him. Why wouldn’t you come back once you know he’s going to be ok?”

He can feel himself tensing at her words, but he takes a couple of deep breaths and tries not to allow the conversation to spin out of control. “I just want to be here for him, ok? He’s my best friend.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” The tension in her voice matches his own, and he already knows this isn’t going to end well. “But your _family_ is here. And we need you, too. His recovery could take months! Are you really planning to uproot your whole life over this?”

“Yes, because it’s _my fault_!”

“ _What_?”

The blood pumping in his ears is so loud it almost drowns out her question, and he has to swallow back the sob that threatens to explode from his throat before he can answer. “It’s my…this is all because of me. The accident, everything. He wouldn’t have even been out there if we hadn’t…” He can’t hold back the tears any longer, and he does his best to ignore the concerned looks he receives from an elderly couple who pass by him on the sidewalk as they enter the building behind him.

“Oh, _Arms_ …”

The pity in her voice is too much, and he feels like he’s going to throw up. He can’t listen to another person try to talk him out of what he knows is the truth. “No, please just don’t. I know. Nicole already tried. It’s just…this is just something that I need to do, ok? I won’t be able to live with myself otherwise. I really need you to understand that.”

There’s a long silence on the other end, and he wonders if she’s going to insist he come home right then. Much to his relief, he seems to have gotten through to her. “Ok look, let’s just take this one day at a time. I won’t come out there yet, but I’m also not going to be a thousand miles away from you for weeks or months, so we’ll figure out a plan when you know more about what’s going on. But you can’t just disappear like you did last night, got it?”

He almost passes out with relief. “Yes, I understand. _Thank you_.”

Neither of them say anything for several seconds, and for once he thinks it’s ok. He takes the time to gather himself a bit before he speaks again. “I should probably head back in and check on Nicole. But will you call me later? I wanna FaceTime with the kids once they are back home. I really need to see their faces right now.”

He hears a soft sigh on the other end. “Yeah, I think we can arrange that.”

“Thank you. And I’m sorry again, for last night…everything.”

“I know you are.”

He wishes he could think of something else to say, but nothing seems right. “Ok, I’ll talk to you later then.” He ends the call and takes a minute to clear his head before he heads back inside.

He meets Nicole as she’s coming down the hallway just off the main lobby. “Oh good, I was just coming to find you. They said we could go in to see Timmy now.”

Pushing down the lump of anxiety that forms in his throat at the thought of facing Timmy again after everything that’s happened today, he follows Nicole back down the endless hallways until they reach the door to Timmy’s room.

The next several hours tick by slowly as they sit and wait by Timmy’s bedside, sometimes together, sometimes taking turns spending a few minutes alone with him. After his stomach rumbles for the twelfth time in 10 minutes, he goes in search of food for them both. They end up splitting a plate of cold meatloaf from the hospital cafeteria and a bowl of green jello.

Liz ends up calling him around 6:00, and he spends a good 45 minutes FaceTiming with the kids. There’s an ache in his chest when he finally hangs up, torn between wanting to be with them and knowing it’s better that they aren’t there right now.

The dinner fare isn’t much better than lunch, so Nicole offers to go a couple blocks up to the Indian place that Timmy loves, cracking a joke that maybe the smell of it would bring Timmy out of his coma-like state.

She’s been gone about 15 minutes when he hears a ping on his phone. When he checks to see what it is, his stomach drops. It’s a Google Alert with the headline “Actor Timothée Chalamet Victim of Gruesome Hit and Run in Downtown Manhattan.”

“ _Shit_.” 

When he thinks about it, it’s practically a miracle that it took nearly a full day for the news to break, but he still dreads the onslaught of reporters that will no doubt be descending on the hospital any time now. When several more pings come through in rapid succession, he sends a quick text to Liz to give her a heads up, then switches his phone into airplane mode to keep himself from being tempted to read each and every one of the articles that are suddenly popping up about the accident.

Letting out a deep sigh, he bends forward to rest his head in his hands on the edge of the bed. “You know, if you really wanted to see me that badly, you could have just said so. You didn’t have to go and get yourself run down to get me to come out here. But then, you’ve always had a flair for the dramatic, huh?” A humorless laugh erupts from his throat, his attempt to keep himself from totally losing his mind not entirely working.

An overwhelming sense of powerlessness washes over him as he listens to the steady beep of the heart monitor, the only sure sign he has that Timmy is still in there somewhere. He’s never been very good with waiting, and right now it’s particularly excruciating.

He lets his arms fall flat on the bed, head bowing low as he fights against the urge to scream at the unfairness of it all. When he feels something brush lightly against the outside of his hand, he freezes. It happens again a few seconds later, and his head snaps up to see what it is.

At first he thinks he’s finally lost it, because there’s no movement whatsoever for about 20 seconds. But then suddenly he sees it. He watches with rapt attention as Timmy’s pinky finger slowly extends out just far enough to barely connect with his hand on the bed.

And when he finally raises his head all the way to look at the head of the bed, a pair of bright green eyes are staring back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm, sorry about the cliffhanger ending two chapters in a row. I promise this won't be a thing every chapter, but I couldn't resist adding a bit of suspense here in the beginning. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I apologize for the slight delay in posting this chapter. I was sick and then life happened and...yeah. My motivation to do anything was pretty non-existent this past week. But I'm getting back into it and hope to get back into a rhythm of posting a chapter about every week to 10 days, as life allows.
> 
> So, I am just going to flat out admit that I know nothing of NYC geography and took great liberties with the distance between the hospital and Timmy's parents' apartment, lol. But for the sake of this story, I needed them to be close together because there will be a lot of going back and forth. So I hope you can just excuse any inaccuracies and just go with it.
> 
> This chapter is looooong, but I felt it was necessary to bookend it with the two scenes at the beginning and end, and I had a lot to cover in between. There's a definite shift that happens at the end of this chapter, and going forward, the chapters will move along a little more time-wise. But these first few chapters were important to set up the emotional components for each character, but especially Armie, that will be a driving force as we get into Timmy's recovery coming up. So thanks for sticking with me. ;)
> 
> Ok, and with that, I will just say, as always, I am so humbled by all the comments, kudos and love you all give out so generously and consistently. Thank you so much. <3
> 
> I hope you enjoy! :D

Everything stops. He’s not even sure he remembers to breathe for what feels like an eternity as he just stares into the eyes of the person he’d been so afraid of losing forever. All the noise from the various machines fades out, and all that’s left is the deep ocean of Timmy’s eyes, open and alert and more beautiful than he can ever remember them being before.

It isn’t until he feels the light brush of Timmy’s finger against his hand again that he breaks free from his trance and springs into action. “Fuck, Timmy, you’re awake! Thank god!” He scrambles to stand so fast that he nearly tips the chair he’s sitting in completely backward, only catching one of the legs at the last second to steady it.

Timmy only blinks at him, the stillness a stark contrast to the rush of movement Armie suddenly finds himself in. He’s about to reach down and touch Timmy’s face when a terrifying thought strikes him. He stops short, brain going in all directions trying to figure out what to do next.

In the end, it’s Timmy who makes the decision for him. “Water.” A thin, scratchy voice drifts up from the bed, and Armie watches in stunned silence as Timmy slowly turn his head to look at the pitcher of water that was placed on the small tray beside the bed. It takes a few seconds to understand what he’s asking for, but once his brain comes back online, he quickly moves over to pour Timmy a small cup of water. 

Without thinking, he holds it out for Timmy to take, only belatedly realizing Timmy can’t exactly hold anything right now. Shuffling forward to stand by the head of the bed, Armie carefully brings the cup up to Timmy’s lips and tilts it gently so that Timmy can drink some. After a couple tiny sips, Timmy begins sputtering and coughing, so Armie quickly removes the cup and steps back, completely freaked out that he did something wrong.

Once Timmy settles again and his eyes sweep back up to Armie’s, Armie holds the cup of water out again in invitation, but Timmy gently shakes his head. Not sure what else to do, Armie places the cup back on the tray and waits. He feels completely out of his depth here, fearing one wrong move and the floor will open up beneath him.

Silence stretches out between them for a minute before Timmy finally speaks again, his voice a bit stronger now after the water helped soothe his vocal chords. “What happened?”

Armie doesn’t even know where to begin answering that question, or even the exact “what” Timmy is asking about. He goes with the most logical possibility. “There was, um, an accident. You were sideswiped by a car and hit the ground pretty hard.” When he sees Timmy’s eyes go wide in panic, he quickly adds, “But the doctors think you’ll be fine, just…need a bit of time to heal, is all.”

Timmy relaxes slightly, but his eyes sweep around the room for the first time as he takes in his surroundings in full, noting all the various casts and bandages all over his body. “Fuck.” A quiet huff comes from Timmy’s nose. “I’m a mess, aren’t I?”

When Timmy’s eyes find his again, one side of Timmy’s mouth quirks up in the tiniest of smiles, and Armie can’t stop the surprised cough-laugh that escapes his throat at the sight. Maybe things between them would be fine and he didn’t need to worry.

The feeling is short-lived, though, because a few seconds later, the smile on Timmy’s face fades and his expression turns skeptical. “What are you doing here?”

The fear from earlier takes hold once again, squeezing his chest in a vice-grip and making it hard to breathe. He knows he needs to ask the question, but he’s terrified of the potential answer. He takes a deep breath, holds it for a few seconds before releasing it again. “Do you, uh…know who I am?”

It feels like an eternity before Timmy finally nods slowly, eyes still cold and facial expression carefully remaining blank. Armie can’t bring himself to feel relieved quite yet, though. At least, not until another few seconds pass with neither of them saying anything before Timmy officially confirms he does really remember him. “Armie.”

All the air in his lungs rushes out in relief, and he smiles at the sound of his name on Timmy’s lips again. But he doesn’t let himself celebrate too much yet; there’s still another matter he needs to get clarification on. “Yes, ok good. What uh…what’s the last thing you remember?”

There’s another long silence, so long that Armie starts to wonder if he actually spoke the words out loud or just thought them in his head. But finally Timmy’s expression relaxes as he lets out a quiet sigh, turning his head a bit to look at the wires hanging over his left shoulder that connect to the heart monitor. “If you were hoping I’d forgotten that the last thing you said to me was to go fuck myself, well, sorry to disappoint.”

Timmy’s eyes travel slowly back over to connect with Armie’s again, and all the blood drains from Armie’s face at Timmy’s words. “Oh fuck, Timmy, I’m so s—”

Before he can get any further with his groveling apology, the door to the room swings open and a harried Nicole bursts through it carrying several bags of take-out. “Jesus, there’s a huge mob of reporters outside the front entrance, and they swarmed me as I was trying to come back inside. The staff at the front desk stopped them from going any further but—"

“Mom?”

At the sound of her son’s voice, Nicole stops dead in her tracks, frantic eyes turning from Armie’s to seek out the source of the noise. “Timmy?! Oh, my baby!” As she rushes to Timmy’s bedside, the bags of take-out hit the floor, the plastic containers luckily managing to keep the contents from spilling out everywhere.

The scene unfolding before Armie suddenly feels far too intimate for him to be witnessing, Nicole’s happy sobs as she reunites with her son piercing through his heart as he realizes he can’t be a part of that happiness. At least not right now. Trying not to draw attention to himself, he quietly inches toward the door, careful to step over the bags and containers of take-out food that now litter the hospital room floor.

Once he reaches the hallway, he takes a few seconds to calm himself and bring his breathing back to normal levels. He knows he needs to tell the nurses that Timmy is awake, but he selfishly wants to give Nicole a few more minutes alone with her son now that he is conscious. 

So he waits, just long enough for the excited cries to die down and the room to once again fall quiet. He chances a quick peek through the small window in the door and sees Nicole sitting on the edge of the bed, caressing Timmy’s face, Timmy’s eyes closed peacefully as his mother comforts him. His heart clenches painfully in his chest at the sight, the closed door between them suddenly a glaring symbolic reminder of just how far on the outside he is from Timmy’s life these days. And that he’s entirely to blame for it.

He gives them one more minute to reconnect in peace before he finally makes his way down the hallway to the nurses station. Once he tells them about Timmy being awake, a flurry of movement surrounds him as people rush to the room to check on Timmy’s condition. Not wanting to add to the chaos, he makes his way back to the waiting room to wait for further updates or instructions.

He tries to sit patiently, but that only lasts a few minutes before the whole thing gets to be too much and he has to move to keep himself from exploding with nervous energy. He starts pacing the perimeter of the waiting area, ignoring all the strange looks he gets from the other people sitting there as he does several laps past them. 

It was a fantastic sign that not only did Timmy remember who he was, but that he could recall the moments right before the accident, even if Armie secretly was wishing that wouldn’t be the case. But he knows there still could be other damage from the head injury, and the waiting to hear the full extent of things makes him a bit frantic.

Luckily, it’s only another couple minutes before he spots Nicole coming down the hallway, and she rushes to him and practically attacks him with a crushing hug. He welcomes it, holding onto her as a way to keep himself from bouncing off the walls with anxiety.

When she finally pulls away, he doesn’t even have time to ask before she launches into explaining everything that happened since he left the room. “They said they don’t see any signs of brain damage. He’s able to recall everyone and everything right up until the point of the accident. He only hesitated on one question they asked him, but it was a math problem, and he’s never been good at math anyway, and—”

Armie places his hands on her shoulders to get her to take a breath, more than relieved to hear the good news but not wanting Nicole to pass out while trying to tell him everything at once. “Hey, it’s ok. You can relax now, it’s all going to be ok.”

Nicole’s shoulders start shaking as she begins to cry quietly. “Oh god, I was so scared! It’s just such a miracle that he came through it as well as he did. The doctors said if he had hit his head one inch to the left, he could’ve—”

“Yeah, but he didn’t. And there’s no need to worry about things that _could have_ happened. We just need to celebrate the fact that he’s going to be ok.”

She falls into his chest again, and he holds her tightly until she settles once more. Wiping at her face, she tries to pull herself together as she stands up straight again. “They uh, they just wanted to run a couple of quick tests to be absolutely certain everything checks out. But they said once they are done, we could go back in and spend some more time with him. They’re not going to enforce visiting hours tonight. So I know you didn’t get a lot of time with him before I came bursting in.” Her quiet, self-deprecating laugh sends a flood of mixed emotions through his body.

“Yeah, I think maybe I shouldn’t go back in quite yet. I think my presence will only agitate him, and his body is still weak and he needs to rest.”

“Armie…”

“No, it’s fine, really.” He tries for his best comforting smile, even though his insides are twisting themselves into knots at the knowledge that what’s best for Timmy right now is for him to not be here. “We can try to work through our baggage when he’s feeling more up to it. There’s no need to rush things.” He reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone, belatedly remembering he shut it off so he has to press and hold the power button to make it come back on. “I’m just gonna get a hotel room for a few nights—”

“You’ll do no such thing.” His head snaps up at Nicole’s fierce tone. “If you think for one minute that you’re staying anywhere but with us, you’re crazy.”

The idea of staying in the place where Timmy grew up, where he had been just a few minutes before all this happened, where he heard the horrible things Armie said to him that drove him to take that walk…he doesn’t know if he can handle it. “I really appreciate the offer, but I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“It wasn’t a suggestion.” The look in her eye and her no-nonsense tone makes it clear that there’s no point in arguing. “I meant it earlier when I said you were family, and there’s no way I’m letting you stay in some cold, lonely hotel room when we have a perfectly good apartment just around the corner filled with people who love you. Marc and Pauline are already on a flight back here and should arrive sometime tomorrow afternoon. So, you’ll be staying with us.”

He doesn’t say anything, just nods his head in acceptance, knowing there wasn’t any way to get out of this now. He puts his phone away and watches as she reaches into her purse, fumbling with a few things before finally finding what she was looking for. When she extends her hand forward and he sees what’s in it, a lump forms in his throat. “Here, you can take my key for now. I’ll make sure to get another copy made for you in the next couple of days, so you won’t need to worry. You are welcome to stay as long as you like.”

“You really don’t need to do all th—” The look she gives him makes him clamp his mouth shut before he finishes his thought.

His heart skips a beat when she reaches up on her tiptoes and takes his face in both of her hands. “Listen, you have been my rock these last 24 hours. I never could have gotten through this without you. So this? Is the absolutely least I can do, and I know it’s nowhere near enough.” When she places a soft kiss on his forehead, he almost loses his last shred of composure, wanting nothing more than to curl up in her lap and let her massage his head gently as he cries. 

He knows in his heart that what she said isn’t true, that he hasn’t helped anyone, that everything he’s done over the past several months has only made things worse for everyone, including himself. But he knows there’s no use in trying to tell Nicole that at this point, and he honestly doesn’t have the energy to fight her on this right now.

So instead, he forces himself to take a deep breath and swallow past the pain and guilt of everything that led them to this place. “Thank you. I really do appreciate it.” It comes out just above a whisper, not sure he trusts his voice not to betray him if he tries to speak any louder.

Nicole squeezes his hand in hers, and they move back over to the group of chairs they had been sitting in earlier and where Armie’s bag was still shoved underneath the one closest to the wall. Once they’re sitting, he turns to her with a warm smile. “Just for the record, you Chalamets are the toughest people I’ve ever met. I’m sure you would have been just fine without me.”

Nicole returns his smile and leans into him with her shoulder. “Maybe. But I’m really glad you’re here, all the same.” He definitely can’t argue with that. Despite the grave circumstances of this visit, he’s always had a great relationship with Nicole and is not the least bit upset to have an excuse to spend time with her again after so long.

He starts gathering everything and goes to pull up the Uber app to call a car when he finally sees all the article notifications and texts from his friends, recalling the reason for Nicole’s panicked entrance earlier.

“Fuck, the reporters. I knew it was only a matter of time when I saw the Google alerts. If I try to leave, I’ll get mobbed for sure.”

Nicole’s expression goes serious, finally settling into determined. “Wait right here.” He watches as she marches over to the nurses station, talking in hushed voices with the head nurse there. He can’t make out what she says, but he can tell by the way she’s gesturing with her hands that she’s not willing to be denied whatever she’s asking for.

A minute later, she turns and walks back to him with a calm smile. “Don’t worry, they have a side exit that they use all the time for these kinds of situations. It requires special access so the reporters can’t find it. The nurse will walk you out and make sure you aren’t seen.”

A relieved sigh escapes his throat as he pulls her into one last hug before goes to follow the nurse that’s waiting a few feet away. As far as he’s aware, the only people who know he’s even in New York are the Chalamets and Liz, and he can’t even imagine the firestorm it would set off if the media got wind of him being there. That’s the last thing either of them need right now.

The nurse brings him down a set of long hallways that are mostly empty, and they finally arrive at the secure exit. He’s given instructions on how to get back in the same way when he comes back, and with a quick but sincere “thank you” to the nurse, he ducks out the door and heads around to the back of the building where he’d instructed the Uber driver to find him to avoid the circus out front.

His car pulls up less than a minute later, and he hops in, hoping like hell he won’t be recognized. It seems he’s in luck, because the guy just gives him a casual, “How’s it going?” before pulling out of the back parking lot and onto the street that will take him to Timmy’s parents’ apartment.

Once he steps out in front of the apartment building, after tipping the driver handsomely with cash, just in case, he stares up at the place he’s come to think of as a sort of second home over the years. It’s been far too long since the last time he was here, and his gut twists with guilt once again about the reason why.

Letting out a long sigh, he ducks his head as he enters the building, hoping to avoid being spotted by anyone who might know who he is and his relationship with the Chalamets. The stairwell is blissfully empty, and he makes his way up to the 8th floor, his feet getting heavier and more unsure with each step.

When he’s finally standing in front of the apartment door, he stares down at the key in his hand, the one he knows he has no business having considering the circumstances. But he knows if he goes anywhere else, he’ll end up in his own hospital bed right next to Timmy after Nicole gets done with him. So he takes a deep breath, puts the key in the lock, and turns.

The apartment is dark but he’s been there enough times to know how to navigate around until he can find a light. The apartment floods with soft lighting from the lamp just inside the entryway. A lump forms in his throat when he notices that everything looks exactly the same as he remembered it. The extra soft throw blanket draped over the back of the couch that he and Timmy would fight over when the whole family would watch a movie together. The stack of books on the end of the coffee table that has grown by a few, but even at a glance he recognizes the ones that have always been there, just waiting for someone to pick them up and get lost between their pages.

His eyes naturally scan down the narrow hallway off the living area, where Timmy’s room is the first door on the left. He knows there’s a perfectly good bed waiting behind it, the room still nicely preserved with many of Timmy’s childhood things. Even though Timmy had gotten his own place a few years back, he’d intentionally left certain things behind so that it still felt like “home” when he came to visit.

As completely exhausted as he is and would like nothing more than to curl up in a comfortable bed and sleep for about a week, he can’t bring himself to go into Timmy’s room. It feels like too much with everything else right now. So he turns back to the couch with a small sigh, heaving his bag on top of it.

He does decide to shower, at least. It’s been over 24 hours of accumulating grime from the plane, the hospital, and just his own sweat and he feels beyond gross. Turning the water as hot as it can go, he steps in and just stands directly under the spray for several minutes. Now that Timmy is awake and everyone seems to think the worst is behind them, he allows the heat and blessedly strong water pressure ease some of the tension and stress from the past day, which feels more like a month given all that’s happened.

He stands there until the water starts to cool, grateful that he’s the only one in the apartment right now so he doesn’t have to add the guilt using all the hot water onto everything else. He quickly washes himself and steps out, changing into the sweatshirt that he’d put around Nicole earlier and a soft pair of sweatpants.

He risks a glance at his phone, which he’d been avoiding since he’d been there. But he knows he at least needs to call Liz and update her on everything. He’d promised to communicate more with her and he intends to hold to his word. She answers on the second ring, her voice softer than he was expecting.

“Hi.”

He can’t deny the small comfort he takes in hearing her voice, a piece of home and normalcy just across the line. “Hi.”

“I saw the news articles about the accident. Niki called me looking for you when you wouldn’t answer, and…”

_Shit_. Of course she saw them. Of course _everyone_ saw them. And of course everyone would be calling him to either tell him or check to see how he was handling it. His mind trips over the dozens of texts that he hasn’t brought himself to read since he turned his phone back on, knowing that he will eventually have to man up and answer them.

“Right, yeah.” He doesn’t even know what else to say at this point, just scrubs a hand over his face and up into his hair, his hand coming away damp from the bits of moisture that still cling to the strands from his shower.

“I didn’t realize it was that serious. The way the articles described it. But you said…he’s going to be ok, right?”

He blows out a slow breath. “Yeah, I think so. He’s actually awake now, just came around a little while ago. There doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage. All the doctors think he’ll be fine once he lets his body heal.”

He can hear the small breath she lets out, heart clenching in his chest at knowing she had been worried. Despite everything between the three of them, he knows she would never seriously wish anything bad on Timmy. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad to hear that.” There’s a brief pause before she continues. “And you? You’re…ok?”

His eyes slide closed as he lets out a low breath. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just exhausted. It feels like a decade has passed in the last 24 hours. I think I’m just gonna crash. I don’t think I got more than an hour of sleep last night, and so much happened today. I need some real sleep.”

“Ok, yeah, you should. Did you get a hotel room?”

“Um no, actually. I’m staying at the Chalamet’s apartment. Nicole wasn’t going to allow anything else.” 

There’s a long pause, and he waits, bracing for an argument, for her to insist that he leave and book a hotel room instead. To his great surprise and relief, it doesn’t come.

“Well, that was nice of her.”

He’s so shocked by her reply, he almost forgets to answer. “Uh, yeah. It was.” There’s a beat of silence and he wonders if she’s going to say anything else about it. When she doesn’t, he decides now is a good time to end the call while they are in a good place about everything. “I’m gonna go, I just wanted to call and check in.”

“Yes, thank you. Call me in the morning? We can FaceTime with the kids for a bit.”

A small smile creeps onto his face, the promise of seeing his kids’ faces again soon exactly what he needs right now. “That would be amazing.”

“Ok, get some rest. Night.”

“Night.”

He hangs up the phone with a relieved sigh. It’s the first conversation they’ve had in he doesn’t know how long that hasn’t been fraught with tension or devolved into an argument. It’s nice to know it’s still possible, even if these are extreme circumstances.

He falls back into the cushions of the couch and stretches out into as comfortable a position as he can manage and shuts his eyes, doing his best to drown out all the craziness from the day still swirling in his brain. Within minutes, exhaustion wins out and he falls into a deep sleep.

A chirping noise coming from his phone wakes him the next morning. Blinking his eyes open and stretching, and trying not to wince at the soreness in his limbs from cramming himself onto a couch that is not meant for 6’5” people to sleep on, he snatches the phone from the coffee table in order to make the noise stop. He finds another round of worried texts from friends and even one from his brother, which is somewhat shocking, but he doesn’t have the energy to deal with it right now.

But the one that woke him up was actually from Nicole, letting him know that visiting hours have started and Timmy is awake and alert, if he wants to come back and talk to him now that things are a bit more settled. He stares down at the screen for a long minute, holding his breath as his thumb hovers over the tiny letters on the phone keyboard, not sure what to type back in response. He knows he needs to go back and try to talk to Timmy for real, clear the air about their fight and see if he can steer their relationship back on track. But he isn’t sure how open Timmy will be to that, given his less than enthusiastic response to seeing him there last night.

After typing and deleting several different responses, he finally just goes with < _Thank you, I’ll be by later_.> It’s vague enough to give him a bit of time without completely ignoring the situation. Plus, he wants to give Nicole space to be with Timmy without him crowding in and making everything awkward.

He calls Liz like he said he would. It’s still a bit early there, but he knows the kids are probably awake by now. He’s right, and his heart is brought back to life by the two bouncing munchkins filling his phone screen and smiling brightly at him. Hearing their laughter does wonders for his soul, and when they hang up a little while later, he feels lighter than he has since he left L.A.

He spends the next while scrolling through all his unread texts from the last several hours, only answering the ones from his closest circle of friends. And even then, he doesn’t mention he’s actually in New York with Timmy. He wants to keep that bit of information as quiet as possible for as long as he can. There are already local reporters to deal with, he doesn’t want to invite any more media attention by announcing his presence at the scene as well.

Just as he finishes sending the last text, his stomach lets out a loud rumble, and he belatedly realizes he never did eat any dinner the night before, their take-out having ended up on the hospital room floor before he could consume any of it. 

He gets up from the couch, shaking out his achy limbs as he wanders into the kitchen area to take stock of the food situation. There isn’t much, but he finds a box of cereal with just enough left for one small bowl. As he’s pouring in the milk, he vows to replace things the first chance he has to get to a store.

Once he’s sitting at the table to eat, he can’t help but eye his phone again, the pull of morbid curiosity becoming stronger every second. Finally, he picks it up and goes to his alerts from last night, seeing the list of articles from various websites that have reported about Timmy’s accident. He knows he shouldn’t click, but he can’t seem to stop himself. He only gets a third of the way through the first one before he has to close the window out of self-preservation. He already knows the most important things, he doesn’t need the gory details of the accident haunting him for the rest of his life.

His appetite sufficiently gone, he tosses the last bit of cereal in the garbage and goes back over to the couch, desperate to distract himself from thinking about Timmy being hit by a car. He eyes the dangerously towering stack of books and carefully lifts the first one up. “Anna Karenina”. Not his first choice, but he figures it’s a classic and one he hasn’t read yet, so it’ll do the trick.

He’s just turning the page to start chapter 4 when his phone starts ringing. When he sees Nicole’s name display across the screen, his heart drops to his stomach, worried that something is wrong and Timmy’s condition got worse. He fumbles for the phone and answers it quickly, trying to keep the panic in his voice hidden the best he can. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Hey, Armie. Listen, I know things between you and Timmy are a bit…strained right now. But I need to leave to go pick up Marc and Pauline from the airport, and Timmy is asleep. I don’t want him to wake up and find himself all alone. Do you think you could come and stay with him for a few minutes, just until I get back? I don’t want to push you, but—”

“I’m on my way.”

The words are out of his mouth before he even has a chance to think about them. Whatever is going on between him and Timmy, he could never say no to anything Nicole asked of him.

He knows when he hears her relieved sigh that he made the right decision. “Oh, thank you! You really are my savior.”

He wants to argue, tell her he isn’t the man she has convinced herself he is, but he knows it won’t go over well and now isn’t the time for that. So he settles for accepting the compliment as gracefully as possible and saying a quick goodbye before starting to get himself ready to fly out the door. He throws on the first outfit he can pull from his bag and makes sure to grab the key to the apartment before making his way downstairs to the street.

Given the time of day and traffic conditions, he figures it would be faster to just walk back to the hospital than to try and take an Uber or taxi. It’s isn’t far and it will give him a chance to get a bit of fresh air and exercise after being stuck in the sterile hospital the entire day before.

Once he gets there, he goes around back and finds the necessary staff to let him into the side entrance. He can see the news vans parked in front of the building and several reporters standing in front of them, cameras and mics at the ready. He has half a mind to charge over there and smash every one of the cameras, but his logical side prevails and he knows that it will only make things worse.

Just as he’s rounding the corner of the waiting area for the wing Timmy is in, he spots Nicole talking to one of the nurses. He calls her name and she turns, face lighting up when she sees him moving toward her.

“Thank you so much for coming!”

“Of course, I am here for whatever you need.”

She meets him with a warm embrace, and he tries not to think about how much he needs her motherly touch to ground him in this moment.

When she pulls back, she smiles up at him and squeezes his hand in hers. “I was just telling Janine, the head nurse on duty, that I’ll be back in about an hour. And Timmy was still sleeping when I left his room about 15 minutes ago. The doctor said he would probably sleep through a lot of the next couple of days, but I just didn’t want him to worry if he woke up and I was gone.”

“I got it, don’t worry. You go get your family, we’ll be fine.”

After another quick hug, she takes off down the hallway and disappears from view. Taking a deep breath, makes his way down the corridor to Timmy’s room. When he pushes the door open, he’s startled to find Timmy wide awake with the head of his bed tilted upward in a semi-sitting position.

“Oh, I uhh…sorry, your mom said you were asleep…”

“Yeah, I was until about five minutes ago. Now I’m awake.” Timmy’s voice is flat, emotionless, so un-Timmylike that it’s unnerving. 

“Right.” He stands frozen in the doorway, feeling like the decision to either enter or leave could have huge unforeseen consequences, and he isn’t sure which is the right one. And the more Timmy just stares at him blankly, like the past several years of friendship have vanished overnight, the more complicated the choice becomes.

In the end, he knows he can’t turn away now. “So can I come in?”

Timmy doesn’t respond right away, just arches one eyebrow slightly. “I guess so. Not like I can really stop you, now can I?” The scoff that follows as Timmy looks down at his body covered in heavy casts and bandages breaks his heart into a million pieces. He’s tempted to just flee the scene, not sure he’s strong enough to handle this conversation right now. But he doesn’t want another day to go by without trying to fix what is so broken between them.

Taking a few tentative steps into the room, he waits to see if Timmy is going to say or do anything else. When he doesn’t, Armie keeps moving further into the room until he can sit down in the chair close to the bed. It’s clear Timmy isn’t going to be the one to talk first, so they sit in awkward silence for a few achingly long minutes before he finally finds the courage to break the ice.

“Look Timmy, I’m sorry for what I said, the other night on the phone. I was upset and angry, and it just got out of hand. But I didn’t mean the things I said. I just want you to know that.”

Timmy’s quiet for so long, Armie starts to think he’s not going to reply at all. He hasn’t even turned to look at him, just keeps staring down the bed in the general direction of his left foot. So when he finally does speak, his voice small and seemingly far away, Armie almost misses it. “I did.”

“What?”

Timmy clears his throat, his voice coming out stronger and clearer this time, though his eyes stay fixed forward. “I did. Mean the things I said. And I won’t apologize for saying them, because whether you want to admit it or not, you needed to hear them.”

He’s taken aback by the sudden ferocity in Timmy’s tone, the pain and anger leftover from their fight still very much there. He knew Timmy might still be upset, but he wasn’t expecting it to go this deep.

The part of him that’s proud and quick-tempered is itching to clap back, stand up for himself and his decisions and not back down. But he reigns in the impulse to explode, knowing that that’s exactly what got them into this mess in the first place. So he consciously takes a breath to calm down, and tries to figure out a better way to resolve this so he doesn’t completely lose one of the best friends he’s ever had.

When he thinks back to what Timmy said during their fight, he knows that part of the reason he got so upset was because deep down, he knew what Timmy was saying was true. Or at least parts of it were. The situation is complicated and his decisions affect more than just himself, but he knows Timmy had a valid point about how much he lets Liz influence him. It was just…easier. It had been his default since they got together, and only after his experience in Crema had he begun to question that dynamic. So he started asserting himself more, doing the things he wanted in both his life and career. But that led to butting heads with Liz constantly as he struggled to find the power in their relationship that he had never really had before.

And then there was Timmy, who had always been this wildcard in their relationship. What had started out as a close-knit friendship between all of them slowly started shifting into something less easy to define, and somewhere along the way Liz got jealous and Timmy got more needy, and Armie didn’t know how to handle any of it. So he fell back on what was familiar, and easy. And he slowly pulled away from Timmy to try and save what was left of his marriage.

Looking back now, he knows that doing that didn’t really save anything. He and Liz still fight constantly and he’s been feeling more and more restless, but he still can’t bring himself to give up on the life he was once so convinced he wanted. And now he and Timmy are also estranged, and he knows all of it is because he wasn’t strong enough to speak up for what he really wanted in the first place.

“You’re right.”

That makes Timmy finally look over at him, though his expression is still doubtful. “What?”

“What you said. What you’re _saying_. You’re right. And I know you were just trying to be a good friend by telling me, even if I wasn’t ready to hear it. I really am sorry for the way I reacted.”

He watches Timmy’s face carefully, sees the way his features relax slowly. Timmy doesn’t say anything, but he gives a small nod, seemingly accepting Armie’s genuine apology.

“So are we, like, ok now? Because I’d really love to put all this behind us and get back to where we were.”

Apparently that was the exact wrong thing to say, because the fire in Timmy’s eyes ignites again. “Are you fucking kidding me?! No, we’re not _ok_. Did you really think you could just show up here and in one conversation just wipe away the last 9 months of our relationship, all the missed calls and texts, the canceled plans and vague excuses for why you couldn’t come to not one, but _two_ of my premieres? I’m sorry, but it’s gonna take a lot more than one “I’m sorry” to fix everything that’s broken between us.”

He knows he deserves every bit of the bitterness and anger that Timmy is hurling at him, but it still stings deeply all the same. He wishes he could turn the clock back and do everything differently, but he can’t. He just hopes it isn’t too late to find a way out of the darkness they are in now.

“What are you even doing here? Why did you come?”

The question probably shouldn’t shock him as much as it does, but he can’t help being hurt at the implication of Timmy’s words. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I come? You’re my best friend and you were badly hurt. I came because I wanted to be here for you.”

Another scoff, another slash through his already shredded heart. “Best friend? Sure hasn’t felt that way lately.”

It’s the truth, and he doesn’t have the heart to even try denying it. He lets the accusation hang heavy in the air between them, filling his lungs with the ashes of their charred relationship with every breath he takes.

After another minute of unbearable silence, he can’t take it anymore. “Maybe I should just go.”

He turns to leave quickly, hoping to make it out of the room before he totally breaks down. But just as his hand lands on the knob and before he can turn it, a quiet voice floats across the room. “Wait.” He freezes, but can’t make himself turn back around just yet. His emotions are still too close to the surface, and he doesn’t think he can look at Timmy right now without them all spilling out. So he waits, as instructed.

“I do appreciate that you came. I know it wasn’t an easy decision to just up and leave your family and fly across the country like that. And I…it _is_ good to see you.”

The words settle heavy on his chest, and he swallows hard around the lump in his throat, forcing himself to breathe normally to keep himself calm. Slowly turning back to face Timmy again, he’s surprised to find that the anger in his expression has faded just enough to let the close bond that they have shared for so many years now shine through just a little. It’s the tiniest sign of hope, but it makes all the difference.

Shoving his hands deep into his pockets to keep from fidgeting, he gives a half shrug. “I needed to see for myself that you were ok.”

He’s so shocked to see Timmy’s lips twist up in a half-smile, he almost forgets how to breathe. “Well, so you have.” A tiny huff of laughter escapes Timmy’s throat, and it’s the most beautiful sound Armie’s ever heard. But then Timmy’s expression sobers. “It’s ok for you to go home now. I’m gonna be fine. Eventually. But I’m sure Liz will want you home soon.”

The shift comes so quickly, it’s hard to follow what is happening. He thought things were maybe going to be ok, and now it sounds like Timmy is saying goodbye. That’s the last thing he wants.

He’s moving back over to the bed before he even realizes it. “I’m not going anywhere. I meant what I said, I want to be here for you. I already told Liz I was staying here as long as I need to in order to make sure you’re ok.”

Timmy eyes go wide and his lips fall open on a tiny gasp. His eyes search Armie’s for any sign of uncertainty, the slightest hesitation that would lead to him being disappointed once again, but Armie in unwavering in his gaze.

“Why?”

The question cuts deep, the fact that Timmy has to wonder why he would do this for him makes him want to scream and throw up. But he forces himself to remain steady in his response. “Because you _are_ my best friend, despite my actions over the last months making you believe otherwise, and I want to make things right between us. If you are willing to give me a chance, I will prove to you that I mean it.”

Timmy continues to hold his gaze for what feels like an eternity before he finally sighs quietly and looks down at his hand, bottom lip trapped between his teeth for a minute as he considers Armie’s proposal. Armie holds his breath as he waits for him to say something, and he’s close to passing out from lack of air when Timmy finally meets his eyes again, a quiet shyness that hadn’t been there before suddenly overwhelming him and making his heart stutter in his chest.

“I really want to believe that. But it’s not going to be easy.”

Armie’s heart squeezes with the combination of anguish at the realization of just how much he must have hurt Timmy, and relief that he’s being given this chance to try and make it right.

“I know. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

It feel like an eternity before Timmy nods and breathes out a quiet, “Ok.” When he hears it, it’s like a light inside of him that had been burned out for a long time suddenly flickers back to life, a hope for something to grow again where it had been withering away.

“Ok.” He can’t keep the smile off his face, even when Timmy’s eyes turn skeptical again. He knows it won’t be easy, and it will probably take a long time for Timmy to really trust him again, but he’s determined to see this through until their relationship is stronger than it was before he let it slip through his fingers.

They’re both quiet for a minute before Timmy lets out a tiny cough. “I’m pretty tired. You know, with all the emotions and all.” His lips quirk up in a small smirk. “I think I should probably try to rest for a bit.”

A huff of laughter bubbles up from his throat, the tension between them sufficiently eased enough that it doesn’t feel wrong to express a bit of happiness. “Right, yeah. I’ll leave you to it. Your mom should be back soon, with your dad and Pauline.”

Timmy’s smirk smooths out into a genuine smile at the mention of his family. “Thanks. I’ll see you later, then?” The tinge of hopefulness in his tone makes Armie’s heart clench.

“Yeah, I’ll be around.” He returns Timmy’s smile before turning back toward the door, trying not to let himself get too excited about the tenuous truce they have come to. He knows he’s got a long way to got before they can rebuild what they used to have, but he finally feels a bit of hope that it’s possible.

Just before he passes through the door, he looks back at Timmy, who has already closed his eyes and his face is smoothed out peacefully, and he hopes like hell that he doesn’t manage to fuck everything up again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi! Sorry this took a little longer than expected but at least it wasn't TOO long this time. This chapter is a bit transitional as it starts to move them forward in time a bit to start getting into the part of Timmy beginning his physically healing a bit more. The next few chapters will be more focused on that now that they boys are finding themselves more on track emotionally.
> 
> Thank you all so much for the love and support of this story. I am really enjoying writing it and it's so amazing to read all the great comments on each chapter so far. I hope you enjoy this one as well! <3

Once back in the waiting room, his anxiety sufficiently eased by the conversation he’d had with Timmy, he rifles through the stack of magazines on the table in the center of the small room. He doesn’t find anything particularly interesting, so he decides to scroll through his social media instead. 

That turns out to be a mistake, because it’s full of worried posts about Timmy, and some of them have some wildly exaggerated information about what really happened. It seems the online game of telephone has begun and now there are a bunch of crazy theories about the accident, and Armie’s blood pressure starts to raise again. He wants to reply to all of them, setting the record straight so people stop spreading false information and making everything worse, but that would require him to acknowledge how much he knows and why, and he’s not ready for that can of worms to pop open just yet.

He closes his apps with a tired sigh, wishing it all would go away so he could just focus on being there for Timmy and not worry about the rest of it. But he knows it all comes with the territory of being a public figure, as much as he detests that side of things. In order to distract himself, he grabs the first magazine from the pile and reads it cover to cover, even though he barely absorbs anything he reads.

It isn’t too much longer when Nicole comes back, Marc and Pauline following close behind her. When Pauline sees him, she rushes past the other two and launches herself at him in a crushing hug, which he eagerly returns. It has been way too long since he’s seen the elder Chalamet sibling, and he’s always held such fondness for her and how close she is with Timmy. Something he never had with his own brother.

“I’m so glad you’re here!”

Her words fill him with such warmth, he could melt right on the spot. “Me too. It’s so good to see you.”

She squeezes him just the tiniest bit harder for a beat before letting go and stepping back, beaming up with him with shining eyes. He returns her smile, but after a minute it fades slightly, remembering the reason they were all there. “I just wish it were under better circumstances.”

Pauline’s eyes dim just slightly as she sobers as well. “Yes.”

In his peripheral vision he sees Marc come into view, and Pauline steps to the side when she notices as well. He’s expecting a firm handshake and a smile, which is their usual greeting, so he’s more than a little surprised when Marc wraps him in a tight embrace as well. A bit stunned, he stiffens for half a beat before he relaxes and returns the hug, his heart swelling a bit at the affection the entire Chalamet clan seems to still have for him, even after all that he’s put Timmy through lately. Maybe it wasn’t too late to salvage things after all.

When Marc pulls back, with two short pats to his back in emphasis, he gives Armie a weary smile. “It’s really nice to see you, Armie. It’s been a long time.”

It has been, and it seems that maybe Timmy wasn’t the only one missing his presence in their lives. The thought leaves him a bit breathless. He never really stopped to consider that the rest of Timmy’s family would care when he pulled back, beyond whatever effect it had on Timmy. But given the reception he’s gotten so far, maybe he had underestimated how they felt about him. It’s flattering but also a bit overwhelming to consider.

While he’s stuck in his own head, Nicole tells Marc and Pauline how to get to Timmy’s room before coming up to him and laying a soft hand on his arm, pulling him from his thoughts. When he looks down at her, she has a hesitant look on her face. “How did it go? Is everything ok?”

He gives a genuine smile, grateful for her motherly instincts. “Yeah, everything is fine. He was awake when I got in there. We had a chance to talk, clear the air a bit. We’ve still got a ways to go, but I think we’ll be ok eventually.”

Her face morphs into a knowing smile. “I’m glad to hear things are on the mend for you both.” She pats his arm gently and turns to head into the direction of Timmy’s room. When he doesn’t follow, she turns back. “Aren’t you coming?”

He hesitates, not sure that he should go back in just yet. “I think I’m gonna get some lunch first, give them a chance to see Timmy without me interfering. Do you want me to get you guys something?”

Her eyes turn soft, fond. “Sure, that would be really nice. Anything is fine.”

“Great, I’ll be back soon then.”

He gives a smile and heads down to the exit. He decides to go to the same Indian restaurant that Nicole had gone to the night before, since they hadn’t been able to actually enjoy the food with everything else happening. He gets enough food to feed a small army, not sure if Timmy will be able to actually eat anything but wanting to make sure he had enough for all of them, just in case.

When he returns a little while later, the room is in full swing, Pauline telling the group about her newest movie role and how excited she is to work with Adam Driver. He tries to come in quietly, but when Pauline sees the food bags he’s carrying, she leaps from the edge of the bed where she was perched and practically tackles him to get to the food.

“You are an angel! I’m _starving_!” She bounces up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek as she grabs the bags from him, and he can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes his throat.

“I wish I had known it was that easy to earn your love.” He smirks and Pauline throws a plastic fork back at him, and the room fills with laughter as he moves further into it, taking a seat a bit on the outside of things but still close enough to see the look of appreciation Timmy sends his way. It makes his heart flutter in a strange way that he doesn’t completely understand, but he’s just grateful that things between them seem to be better now.

They spend the next while eating and laughing and catching up. Timmy manages three bites of rice before feeling a bit nauseous. The doctors had warned them that the pain meds might have that effect, but that they would hopefully be able to lower the dose in a few days as his body healed and he could eat more regularly.

He stays in the room with the Chalamets until early evening, when he gets a text from Liz asking about doing FaceTime with the kids. When he mentions heading back to the apartment, Pauline pipes up.

“I’ll go with. If you want the company, that is.”

He smiles, insides filling with warmth at her eager tone. “Sure, that would be nice. Assuming Timmy doesn’t mind.” He casts a glance over to Timmy to find Timmy’s eyes going back and forth between them rapidly with what looks like almost a hint of worry. 

He only has a brief second to wonder what that’s about before Timmy answers. “Yeah, go ahead. I’m probably gonna try to sleep soon anyway.” He doesn’t sound completely thrilled, but he gives a slight smile and Armie isn’t sure what to make of his reaction.

Pauline, though, simply sidesteps the awkwardness and leans down to kiss Timmy’s forehead quickly before sauntering over to wear he’s standing close to the door. “Thanks, bro! Get some rest, we’ll see you tomorrow!”

Before Armie even knows what’s happening, he’s being ushered out the door, Pauline’s arm linked in his as she leads the way. But he’s learned over the years not to question Pauline’s eccentricities, so he just goes with it and calls out a quick goodbye to everyone else over his shoulder seconds before the door clicks behind them.

Once in the hall, Pauline looks up at him with a wide smirk and he lets out a soft scoff of laughter. He definitely could be in worse company than Pauline Chalamet. When it becomes clear she has no clue how to get them to the private side exit, he gently guides her down the correct hallways and out onto the street.

She doesn’t say much on the Uber ride to the apartment, but he can tell she’s got something she wants to say to him. It’s in the Chalamet genes, the tendency to give away exactly what they are feeling even if they don’t ever speak it out loud. But he doesn’t push, figuring she’s waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

That moment comes when they’re finishing up dinner, which Pauline had made for them while he’d been FaceTiming with Liz and the kids. He’s on his last bite of Coq Au Vin when she finally cuts to the chase.

“So you’re here to win back my brother’s heart, right?”

He coughs around his fork, nearly sending the mushroom that gets caught in his throat sailing through the air once he dislodges it. She waits a handful of seconds before her lips twist up in a mischievous smirk, and once he can breathe again he lets out a small chuckle.

“Yeah, something like that.”

She seems pleased with his response, a twinkle shining in her eye. “Well good, it’s about time you two figured your shit out. I know Timmy can be a little…needy sometimes. And your life is complicated. But he adores you.”

He lets out another huff, this one more skeptical. “Yeah well, not right now he doesn’t.”

“Bullshit. He’s just hurting right now. In more ways than one. He’ll get over it.”

Armie sighs. “I hope so.”

“Trust me. He loves you. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. And he’s not going to let anything ruin what you two have, not even you.” Pauline winks at him, and a bark of laughter rises up from his throat. It’s amazing how much she and Nicole are alike. There’s no denying the genetics there.

Pauline stands, reaching over to grab both of their empty plates to bring them to the sink. But as she passes his chair, she stops and looks down at him. “But trust me, you break his heart, I break your face.”

He’s about to laugh again when he sees the undeniable challenge in her eyes, and he instantly sobers. Raising his hands in clear surrender, he lets out a low breath. “Understood.”

She keeps staring at him for a beat, but then seems satisfied with his answer as she gives a short nod and continues into the kitchen. He waits a few seconds before joining her, careful not to give her reason to turn her serious face on him again.

“For the record, I don’t want to break any hearts. Only fix what I already broke.”

Once she sets the dishes in the sink, she turns to him, her eyes suddenly full of warmth again. “I know that. But T…well, just be careful, is all.”

He’s about to ask her what she means when her phone starts to ring. “Sorry, I gotta take this, it’s about the movie. They’re rearranging shooting so I can be here for a while.”

He gives a nod, not wanting to get in the way of her work. She answers and gives him a small smile and she passes him to head back to her bedroom, leaving Armie alone in the kitchen, Pauline’s warning swirling in his brain. He’s not sure why she would tell him to be careful. They’ve been best friends for years, and he’s closer to Timmy than anyone on the planet at this point, much to Liz’s annoyance.

He decides to wash the dishes since Pauline was nice enough to cook. When he finishes, he eyes his bag that’s still sitting on the edge of the couch where he left it earlier. He considers the situation carefully, realizing that continuing to sleep on the couch now that Marc and Pauline were there was not really a viable option.

With a low sigh, he grabs the bag and makes his way slowly down the hallway to Timmy’s room. He pushes the door openly gently, hearing a tiny squeak in the door hinges as he crosses the threshold and gazes around the small room.

It’s exactly the way he remembers it being from the last time he was there, and all the times before that. There are a few posters on one of the walls of rap artists, a couple of his soccer trophies are still on a shelf across from the bed, with his jersey draped across the tallest one. A few other odds and ends from his childhood are scattered over the space, and a couple things from his various film projects as well. A couple small props and a few outfits he managed to steal from wardrobe.

He sits down heavily onto the bed, the mattress so low to the ground his knees are almost in his armpits. But somehow he doesn’t care. It brings him back to a time when he and Timmy had been so close, he wasn’t sure how to even properly define their relationship. “Friend” didn’t seem to nearly encompass what they shared, but no other word did, either. He didn’t realized how much he truly missed that connection until this moment, surrounded by Timmy’s things and being engulfed in memories of how they used to be.

He stretches out on the bed, carefully, trying to find a position where his limbs aren’t hanging off one side or another. Once he finally gets comfortable, he takes out the book he was reading earlier and tries to get back into it. But he only gets about 5 pages before exhaustion kicks in and he falls asleep with the book still in his hand.

The next several days are spent going back and forth to the hospital with Timmy’s family. They find a bit of a routine amongst the chaos of the situation, and after a few days the stress and fear from the accident fade away and it starts to feel almost normal. Armie watches as the small scrapes covering Timmy’s face and arms start to heal over, and his bruises turn an angry shade of purple before beginning to fade away. His overall pain becomes more manageable, and he’s able to stay awake longer and keep more food down.

Luckily, after not being allowed inside the hospital for many days, most of the reporters give up and stop stalking the front of the building so they are more free to come and go without the risk of being seen and hounded for comments about Timmy’s condition. That doesn’t stop the phone calls from pouring in constantly, and they all have to make use of the feature that silences all unknown numbers in order to retain their sanity until something else newsworthy happens to pull the reporters attention.

Armie is able to spend a bit of time with Timmy alone on most days, while Timmy’s family takes care of some necessary life things. Their conversations stay mostly to surface things- the different scripts they’ve been reading and auditions they’ve gone on, a bit of talk about Armie’s family life, though Timmy is careful to only ask about the kids and steers clear of mentioning Liz. Armie doesn’t mind, too grateful to finally get a chance to catch up with Timmy without guilt or tension to want to push for anything deeper until Timmy is ready.

But one week to the day since his accident, Armie is in the middle of ordering a few books online to be delivered to the Chalamet’s address- having finished “Anna Karenina” and the other 4 books he hadn’t already read- when Timmy clears his throat to get his attention.

“So uh…you never really mentioned how you got Liz to agree to let you stay here this long without her.”

Armie looks over at Timmy, and he can see in Timmy’s expression that he knows he’s treading on a potential landmine, but his desire to know the answer seems to outweigh the possible consequences of asking the question.

He takes a few seconds to consider the best way to answer, not wanting the tension between them to return but also knowing he can’t ignore the question completely. “She wasn’t…thrilled. But when I explained why I needed to be here, she seemed to understand.”

Timmy considers his answer for a minute, eyes looking into his carefully. “And what was the reason you told her you needed to be here?”

His first instinct is to deflect, try to find a way around the true answer and hope that Timmy drops it. But he knows that if he and Timmy are really going to get back to where they were before, they need to be totally honest with each other. He maintains eye contact as he takes a deep breath and answers.

“Because…I knew this is all my fault.”

Timmy is quiet for a minute before arching one eyebrow. “What is?”

Armie blows out a breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. He figures if he’s gonna be honest, he should just go for it. “This…all of it. The accident. Your mom told me you went out that night to clear your head after our fight and if you hadn’t…”

“Whoa whoa whoa, Armie, _stop_.”

He feels Timmy’s hand come down over his on the bed, the slightly scratchy material of the brace around his wrist making him startle a bit. He cuts himself off, eyes casting downwards as his face burns with renewed guilt. There’s a beat of silence and then he feels Timmy’s fingers digging into his arm to get him to look back up at him. It takes another couple seconds before he’s able, but he finally lifts his eyes back up to slowly meet Timmy’s again.

“Jesus fuck, Armie, _none_ of this is your fault. I was always planning to go out that night. I wanted to pick something up at the store a couple blocks away. So our fight had nothing to do with my accident. You gotta stop blaming yourself for shit that isn’t your fault.”

He feels the prick of tears in the corners of his eyes and tries to will them away, not wanting to start getting all emotional right now. He really wants to believe in what Timmy is saying, but a tiny part of him can’t quite let go of the feeling that he somehow caused all this pain. That his actions over the last months had finally caught up with him and now everyone is paying the price.

Still, the reassurance that Timmy had been planning to go out all along that night does go a long way to help him let go of some of the guilt and anguish that he’s been holding onto since Nicole called him to tell him what had happened. The tightness in his chest eases and he feels like maybe he can breathe normally again, especially now that he and Timmy are making good progress in getting things back to normal with them.

He sees Timmy searching his eyes, clearly looking for an indication that he understood what he was saying and accepted it. Armie gives a tiny nod in answer, not trusting his voice to speak right now. He sees Timmy visibly relax a bit, sagging back into the bed with a quiet sigh and the grip on his arm loosens a bit, though Timmy’s hand remains on top of his.

“So if that’s the reason that’s really keeping you here…it’s ok. You can go home and be with your family. I know you’re trying to make up for everything that happened with us, and I really appreciate that, but…I don’t want it to become another thing that causes tension in your marriage. That’s what started all of this to begin with.”

The tiny bit of defeat in Timmy’s voice is unexpected, and for a minute he isn’t sure how to react to Timmy telling him once again to go home. This time it was coming from a place of genuine concern and not anger, but it still stings all the same.

“I don’t want to leave, Timmy. I want to be _here_ , with you. And Liz and I agreed that she would come out here with the kids at some point, once we have a better idea of how long your recovery will take. But I’m not in any hurry to go back. Unless…” He stops, considering his next words carefully. “Unless you _want_ me to go.” Timmy stays quiet, his eyes not quite meeting his anymore and a feeling of dread ripples through Armie’s stomach. “Do you?”

The silence stretches out between them for what feels like hours until Timmy’s eyes finally connect with his again and he responds. “No, I don’t want you to leave. I just need to know you’re staying because you _want_ to, not because you feel obligated to be here out of guilt.”

Armie brings his other hand up to lay gently over Timmy’s, careful to avoid putting too much pressure that might cause pain. “I do want to. Trust me. Fuck Timmy, I really missed you.”

He doesn’t bother trying to hold back the tears that push forward around the edges of his eyes this time, wanting Timmy to see how much he really means what he’s saying. And unless his eyes are deceiving him, he swears he spies a bit of wetness gathering in the corner of Timmy’s eyes as well.

The tiny sniffle Timmy gives a few seconds later only confirms his suspicions. “I missed you, too. I’m really glad you’re here.”

They share a smile, and he’s just about to make a dumb joke to help keep his emotions in check when the nurse walks in with Timmy’s next dose of pain meds. Armie clears his throat and moves back a bit to give the nurse room, already missing the physical comfort of Timmy’s hand when it slides from between his own.

Pauline comes back a few minutes later, and the moment is sufficiently gone. But just knowing that they’ve come to this place and he feels like they are finally on the same page again makes Armie’s heart expand with relief and something else he can’t quite pinpoint.

That night when he’s sitting on Timmy’s bed, he goes to take a sip of water and accidentally spills some on himself. Setting the glass down quickly, he looks around for tissues or a towel to wipe himself off. There’s nothing on the beside table so he tries the top drawer.

He peeks inside, and after moving aside an old box of condoms – which makes him smirk – he finds a small package of tissues and grabs two, patting himself down as best he can. But when he goes to close to drawer again, something catches his eye. It’s a corner of a picture underneath the package of tissues. He slowly slides it out and brings it to his face to get a better look, and his breath catches in his throat. 

It’s a picture of the two of them from the set of Call Me By Your Name. He’s never seen that particular picture before, but he instantly recognizes when it was taken. It was from the first week of filming, just after they finished the breakfast scene. Armie had gone over to sit next to Timmy at the table while everyone else was milling around nearby, waiting for the next shot to be set up. The picture showed the two of them laughing at something, the crinkles near Armie’s eyes visible and Timmy’s mouth hanging wide open in mid-laugh. He can practically hear the sound of it as he stares down at the two of them.

Seeing the image of the two of them so happy and carefree makes his heart swell with emotions he doesn’t know how to name. He leans back on the bed, keeping the picture in his hand, and lets his mind wander back to that time when everything seemed so easy and free. He falls asleep to thoughts of lazy Italian days and endless wine-filled nights, and a curly-headed kid who somehow managed to go from his co-star to one of the most important people in his life.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh hi! :)
> 
> First off, I apologize for the unexpected hiatus this fic took. I'd really hoped I could keep up with updating this alongside the collab fic I was posting at the same time, but then...the pandemic happened. And most of my motivation and energy went totally out the window. So I decided to put this on hold and focus on the collab fulltime because we had an arranged posting schedule for that, and honestly, getting into the right headspace to write this one was at times very hard given the whole pandemic situation. But now that the collab been completed, and I feel a little less of the anxiety I was experiencing a couple months ago, I can return to working on this fic more fulltime! I can't make promises that I will have updates every week, but I will do my best to keep them as regular as possible from here on out. Thank you so much for your patience and for hopefully sticking with me. The exciting stuff is just around the corner! ;)
> 
> That being said, this is a bit of a transitional chapter, but still important in the boys' overall relationship as things move along. But next chapter will be the *major* turning point in this fic, so stay tuned for that to come shortly! 
> 
> And thank you to everyone who has sent me lovely messages about this fic on tumblr and discord, and for all the amazing comments you've left on the previous chapters. I do plan to reply to them when I have a chance, but please know that I cherish every single one of them. This fic is almost a year in the making now and it means a lot to me, and I'm excited to get back into things and take you all on this journey with me. All my love and gratitude to all you lovely readers. <333

Over the next week, they all continue to fall into a rhythm, going back and forth between the hospital and the apartment in shifts. Nicole and Marc take the morning, heading over just as visiting hours begin for the day, then Pauline and Armie join them around midday. They spend another couple hours all together before Marc and Nicole will head back, and Pauline usually makes her exit after another little while, leaving Armie to have some time with Timmy alone until visiting hours end and he has to leave.

It becomes their new normal, something Armie can count on and look forward to every day, which is a huge relief after the first few intense days where everything was so unpredictable and scary. Every day Timmy grows a little stronger, and despite the tragic circumstances that led to his current state, he stays mostly in good spirits about everything. Only a couple of times has Armie ever seen him get frustrated, and those had been due to his limited physical abilities, which they all knew was a temporary issue while his body healed. Still, it wasn’t easy for Timmy not to be able to give someone a full body hug when he was feeling particularly vulnerable, and they all make an extra effort to keep as much physical contact with him as possible to help soothe his need for human touch.

In the times Armie gets Timmy all to himself, their conversations start drifting more into what they used to be before he’d pulled away for the sake of his marriage. It had been a long time since they really _talked_ about things, the things that neither of them really discuss with other people but have always felt completely at ease telling each other. Armie didn’t realize how much he’s missed that part of their relationship until he walks out of the hospital room one night and he feels like a huge weight has lifted from his shoulders. 

When he’d closed himself off from Timmy all those months ago, he hadn’t realized how truly isolated he would feel. He has plenty of other friends to talk to – some of whom he’s known since childhood – but none of them really understand him in the way Timmy always has, in his purest and most unfiltered form. And just about every time he’d tried to have a real conversation with Liz about something, it would end with them arguing over something completely unrelated to what he’d been trying to talk about. So after a while, he’d stopped trying.

At the end of the week, as he’s approaching Timmy’s hospital room and peeks in, he can see everyone gathered around Timmy’s bed looking rather serious. Just as he’s about to walk in, Timmy’s main doctor and the nurse on call come sweeping out through the door, barely stopping to give Armie a nod in acknowledgement.

When he finally makes his way inside the room, he can immediately feel the tension in the air. His eyes flicker over to Timmy, who has a very dejected look on his face. A wave of panic rolls through him as he imagines the various possible reasons for him to look like that. “What’s going on? What did the doctor say?”

The entire room startles, obviously not having noticed him entering the room in the wake of whatever news the doctor had just delivered. But he barely notices anyone else, his eyes remaining locked on Timmy, needing to hear whatever it is from him. “I had been hoping I could go home soon, since I don’t have any brain damage or internal bleeding. But since both my place and my parents’ are walkups only, and I can’t exactly, ya know, _walk_ right now, they said it would be against medical advice to release me until I have the full use of at least one of my legs, which will probably still be another few weeks.”

“Oh shit.” 

“Yeah.”

The news that Timmy would have to remain in the hospital for several more weeks while his fractures heal is unexpected, but Armie is surprised to feel a tiny bit of relief mixed in with his other emotions. At the very least, it gives them more of a chance to spend time alone, whereas Timmy’s parents’ place would be more crowded and he would be the outsider, despite everyone insisting that he’s part of the family. He realizes it’s a selfish thought, but he can’t quite bring himself to feel bad about it.

Timmy lets out a resigned sigh, bringing him back to the present. “At least they’re letting me move to another wing of the hospital. They said normally they’d refer me to a rehab facility to finish healing, but due to the security issues with the reporters, they thought it best not to move me from the building until I can officially go home.”

It’s clear how disappointed Timmy is that he can’t go home yet, and Armie’s stomach clenches with the desire to make it better for him somehow. Instead, he watches as Nicole brushes his hair back behind his ear and tells him it’s for the best and that they will still visit every day until he can come home and be with them. It takes him by surprise how helpless he feels as he looks on at mother and son, wishing he could be the one to comfort Timmy. It’s instinct by now to be protective of him, but the almost possessive feeling of needing to be the one to care for him is definitely new, and he isn’t sure where it came from or what to do with it.

He’s shaken out of his thoughts a few seconds later when the nurse comes back with two burly looking men wheeling a gurney. “We’ve got your new room set up for you and we can transfer you over to the long-term care wing now.”

Armie looks over to see Timmy nod slightly, trying not to look as devastated as he must feel. There’s a bit of chaos as the Chalamets all scurry around to let the men move the gurney close enough to the bed for a smooth transition, and Armie decides he should let them have some space for a few minutes.

Once he receives Timmy’s new room number and directions to find it in the other wing, he goes downstairs for some fresh air and a cigarette. He’s been trying to cut back recently, but he still carries a pack with him for times when he really needs a nicotine fix. As his lungs fill with smoke, he tries to clear his head of all the weird emotions he felt back up in that room, the intensity of them leaving an uneasy feeling in his gut that no amount of nicotine can vanquish.

When he’s done, he makes his way to the new room and sees Pauline in the hallway on a phone call, and she signals for him to go ahead in. This room is a little bigger, with a nicer view of the city out the window than the one he’d been in before. It’s brighter and the only real indications that they are still in a hospital are the line of wires attached to the IV pole beside the bed and the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor over Timmy’s left shoulder. But overall, it’s not a bad setup.

They all spend the next couple of hours trying to take Timmy’s mind off of the situation, though Armie isn’t sure how well it actually works. When Marc and Nicole reluctantly say they need to go, Armie can see the way Timmy’s eyes dim for an instant before he can slide the mask on and pretend he isn’t aching to go with them. Armie’s heart clenches as he watches them say goodbye and promise to be back early in the morning.

Just as Armie is about to pull over the big armchair to settle closer to Timmy’s bed, Timmy clears his throat. “Uh, actually, I’m kinda tired from all the excitement earlier. I think I might just sleep for a while. And visiting hours aren’t for too much longer, anyway. Is it ok if I just see you tomorrow?”

Armie knows Timmy well enough to know the last thing he wants is to be left alone right now, but he also knows that calling him out on his bullshit will only lead to Timmy becoming defensive and sullen, and that isn’t what he wants. “Yeah, sure, no problem, man. I hope you can get some rest. At least it’s quieter over here than it was in the other room, so maybe it won’t be so bad. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He watches Timmy’s face carefully, recognizing the way his lips twitch when he’s trying to act tougher than he really feels. “Yeah, thanks. Night, Armie.”

“Night, T.”

Making his way out of the room, he lets out a slow breath, knowing he can’t just ditch Timmy now, despite Timmy’s claims of wanting to sleep. He’s just rounding the corner of the hallway when he almost runs into Pauline, who had walked her parents down to the entrance and was on her way back up. “What’s going on?”

“Tim said he wanted to sleep and would just see us tomorrow.”

Pauline arches an eyebrow. “You know that’s bullshit, right?”

Armie can’t stop his amused snort. Leave it to Pauline to come right out with it. “Yeah, I know. I’m not actually leaving. I might go down to the gift shop for a few minutes and then come back.”

Pauline’s face softens into a smile. “You really are a good guy, you know. Timmy’s lucky to have you.”

This time, Armie’s snort is more self-deprecating. “Yeah, right. I just know when he’s lying through his teeth. Fucker is easier to read than a children’s book.”

Pauline moves closer to him, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “You really should give yourself some more credit. Only someone who really cared deeply for him would still be here, every day, putting the time and effort in to make sure he knows you do care. It’s not just about guilt anymore, that’s for sure.”

Pauline’s words leave him momentarily speechless, a ripple of emotion moving through his gut as he considers their true meaning. He hadn’t really thought about it, but deep down he knew she was right. The guilt had faded away, replaced by something else, something deeper and more intense, but he isn’t quite sure what to call it. All he knows is that he still needs to be here, almost more for _him_ now than for Timmy.

“Listen, I’m gonna head out. I’m sure I’m not the one he’s hoping will stick around, anyway. You’ll be fine.” Pauline’s easy tone helps ease the tension he’s suddenly aware has been gripping him, and he lets out a long breath.

“Thanks, ‘line. See you in a bit.” She gives him a bright smile and bounds off back around the corner. 

He finds his way to the gift shop and looks around, not really sure what he’s looking for, just something that might help cheer Timmy up. There’s a decent selection of shirts with a variety of “get well” sayings on them, balloons of every color of the rainbow, and a plethora of stuffed animals. He stops in front of one, looks at it, and instantly decides it’s perfect. A few minutes later, he’s headed back up to Timmy’s room, his purchase in a small yellow gift bag at his side.

When he peers through the small window in the door, he’s not at all surprised to see Timmy fully awake and flipping through the channels on the large tv mounted on the wall opposite the bed. He smirks and turns the knob, entering the room slowly so not to startle Timmy too much.

The shock is still written all over Timmy’s face when he looks over at him, but his presence doesn’t appear to be unwelcome. “What – what are you doing here? I thought you had left.”

Armie’s eyebrow inches up as he tilts his head toward the tv. “Yeah, and I thought you were really tired and were going to sleep.” Timmy’s mouth opens for a second, clearly trying to think of an excuse, but then he closes it again and looks down into his lap, his face turning a nice shade of pink. “Uh huh, I thought so. I knew you were full of shit earlier. Just because things between us lately have been a bit distant doesn’t mean I suddenly stopped knowing how to read you.” He lets out an amused chuckle and watches Timmy’s face go full red.

“Yeah, whatever. For the record, I did try to sleep. But my stupid mind wouldn’t shut the fuck up, so…” He mumbles out the last bit, and Armie decides to take pity and not rib him too hard. Instead, he waits until Timmy clears his throat and gestures at his hand. “What’s in the bag?”

His lips twitch up in a giddy smile and he moves toward the bed, placing the small bag next to Timmy’s hand. “Just a little something I picked up in the gift shop for you.”

The way Timmy’s eyes go wide makes something in his chest ache. “For me?”

He nods, and he almost can’t contain his glee while he watches Timmy carefully stick his hand in the bag and pull out the little stuffed bear with a strip of white gauze wrapped around its head, mimicking a head injury. Timmy just stares at it for a few seconds before snorting in disbelief. “Only you would pick this out as a gift to make someone feel better.”

A laugh explodes from his throat, unable to hold back his delight any longer. “Oh come on, tell me you don’t think that’s hilarious!”

Timmy’s face smooths out into an expression of bemusement. “You’re ridiculous.” The breathy chuckle that follows causes warmth to pool in his belly. “I love it, thanks man.”

The smile Timmy gives him is so bright he thinks he might need sunglasses, but his chest squeezes with emotion and he feels an immense sense of accomplishment at making Timmy feel better, even for just a minute.

They grin dumbly at each other for a minute until it starts to feel a little awkward, and he glances up at the tv, which is still on and muted. “So uhh, what were you watching?”

Timmy follows his gaze and gives a little shrug. “Nothing really. I was just flipping through.”

He senses the question Timmy wants to ask but doesn’t. So he lets him off the hook and asks it himself. “You wanna see if there’s a good movie we can watch for a while. It’s not like I have anywhere else to be.” One side of his mouth twists up in a smirk, and Timmy rolls his eyes at him, but he can see the gratitude etched all over his features.

“Sure, that sounds good.”

They flip through the channels a bit more until they find a movie they both want to watch, and they spend the next couple of hours in companionable peace together. Timmy falls asleep for a few minutes in the middle, and when he wakes up, Armie explains what he missed while he was out.

When the night nurse comes in to give Timmy his next round of meds, she tells Armie that visiting hours are ending in just a few minutes. Timmy tries not to show his disappointment, but Armie can still sense it. When she leaves the room again, he jumps up, telling Timmy he’ll be right back, and catches the nurse before she goes into the next room.

Armie knows he can be very charming when he wants, though he tries not to take advantage of it very often. But every once in a while, it can come in handy when he really wants something. He flashes his best movie star smile and walks up to the nurse, whose name is Quinn, based on his nametag.

“Listen, Quinn, I know Timmy tries to put on a brave face about all this, but with everything that happened today and not being able to go home like he’d hoped, I think it’s really starting to get to him. Do you think it would be possible for me to stay a little past visiting hours, just this once, to help put his mind at ease a bit? I think it would really do him a lot of good.”

He can see her debating his request, but he can be very persuasive when he turns on the charm, and in the end, he knows he’s succeeded in convincing her. “Well, if I happen to just skip over his room when I’m doing my rounds next, it won’t be the worst thing in the world, I guess. Just make sure you take the back stairs when you go, it’ll keep you out of view of the nurses station.”

After thanking her profusely, he heads back into Timmy room to find Timmy staring at him with raised eyebrows.

“It’s fine, I just bought us another hour or so. Quinn won’t say anything.”

The relief on Timmy’s face when he hears Armie will stay a little longer makes his heart clench. “You really didn’t have to do that, man.”

Armie just shrugs it off, emotions welling up in him that he doesn’t want to deal with in that moment. “It’s no problem.”

Once Armie gets settled back in his chair, they end up watching an episode of Law and Order, with Timmy telling Armie all about his experience of being on the show as a kid. When it ends, they talk for another little while before he notices the time and figures he shouldn’t push his luck much longer.

“Thanks for staying, I really appreciate it.” Timmy’s soft smile warms him from the inside out.

He returns the smile, but after a beat, his expression sobers. “It will be ok, T. I know it sucks having to be here longer than you expected, but you’ve already come a long way since the accident. Another few weeks won’t be so bad. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Timmy is quiet for a minute before giving a small nod. “I know. Thanks. It’s been really great having you here.”

There’s a tightness in his chest at the tone of Timmy’s voice, and every instinct is screaming out to give Timmy a proper hug. But there’s a niggle of something he can’t explain that stops him, and instead he just clears his throat and forces a smile. “Ok, well you should _actually_ sleep now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Night Armie.”

Just as he’s closing the door behind him, he spots Quinn writing something on a clipboard in front of the room two doors down. He gives her a warm smile and waves, and when she returns it with a wink, he lets out huff of laughter and makes his way down the back stairs as instructed.

The next several days go by in a similar fashion. Quinn is on call every night that week, and each night she comes in to give Timmy his nighttime meds, she gives Armie a sly smile and mentions she might not be back for a while. Timmy gives him a side glance one time, but he just rolls his eyes in response. He’s just grateful that he gets the extra time to spend with Timmy.

He ends up staying later and later each night, until one night he completely loses track of time while trying – unsuccessfully – to teach Timmy the art of playing chess. He’s in the middle of a good-natured rant about being several moves ahead of your opponent, to the sound of Timmy’s exasperated sighs, when his phone starts to buzz in his pocket.

But his smile drops from his face as soon as he sees the name pop up on his phone, and notices the time. Liz was calling for their nightly FaceTime session with the kids, and he’d completely forgotten about it. Timmy notices his change in demeanor and asks who it is, and when Armie shows him the phone, he visibly stiffens. “I guess you should probably take that.”

“Yeah…”

He stands up and goes to the other side of the room and answers the call, Liz’s face coming onto his screen. “Hey, babe. The kids are –” She stops short when she notices the scene behind him. Her eyes narrow and he can tell she’s already pissed. Especially when she speaks again and her voice is much lower and she overenunciates. That’s never a good sign. “Are you still at the hospital?”

He can feel Timmy’s eyes on his back, but he doesn’t dare turn around. “Uh yeah, sorry, I just lost track of time. I was trying to teach Timmy chess and it isn’t going so well.” He tries for a small chuckle and a half-smile, but she doesn’t seem amused by his explanation.

“Well, don’t you think it’s time to go now? Your children want to talk to you. I’m sure Timmy will understand, since you’ve apparently been with him for hours now.”

Upon hearing Timmy’s name, there’s a pair of happy squeals and two grinning faces shove their way into the frame before Armie can answer Liz. “Timmy’s there?? I wanna talk to Timmy! Please Momma, can we?!” Harper’s overexcited voice simultaneously thrills him and breaks his heart. He can’t deny how much he misses holding his kids, even if he isn’t ready to leave to go back home yet.

Liz gives him a warning look but doesn’t answer, and he risks a glance over his shoulder at Timmy, who is trying his best to look anywhere but back at him. Armie lets out a quiet sigh and turns back to Liz, knowing he’ll pay for his next words but still willing to risk it. “Maybe, just for a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.”

The look on Liz’s face tells him that was the exact wrong answer, but when Harper starts pumping her fists in the air in excitement, Ford joining in a few seconds later, she presses her lips into a tight line in defeat. “Fine. Just a few minutes.”

She hands the tablet to Harper and the screen shakes violently as Harper can’t stop squirming in delight. He chuckles at how happy his kids are at the chance to talk to Timmy, and when he turns back again, Timmy is looking at him with a worried expression, teeth biting into his lower lip.

“It’s ok.” When Timmy still looks unsure, he lowers the phone and adds, “Only if you want to, of course. If you’re not up for it, I understand.”

Timmy’s face morphs immediately into a mild panic and he rushes to reassure him. “No, of course I want to talk to them. Please.”

Armie chuckles and takes his seat next to the bed, propping his hand up on the small rolling tray where they had their chess game set up so Timmy can see the screen. Timmy spends the next several minutes talking to Harper and Ford, patiently answering all their questions about the accident – the G-rated version without the really scary parts or the gory details – and being filled in about all the things they are learning at school these days. Armie can’t stop smiling the whole time, his heart full at watching Timmy interact with his kids again after so long.

After about 10 minutes, he hears Liz’s voice in the background, but he can’t quite make out what she said. But Harper’s instant pout is answer enough. “Mommy says we have to hang up now.”

Timmy manages not to let his disappointment show, though Armie knows he feels it. “That’s ok. We’ve talked for a long time. It was great to see you guys, I miss you so much!”

“We miss you, too, Timmy!” This time Ford pipes up, and Armie tries to swallow down the lump in his throat at having kept his kids from seeing Timmy for so long because of his own selfishness.

There’s more mumbling in the background, and Harper looks at Armie with a serious face. “Daddy, Mommy says you have to call her when you get back to the apartment.”

“Ok, sweetheart, I will. Thank you. See you kiddos tomorrow. Love you both.” The kids say their goodbyes and blow kisses, and Armie tries to ignore the tingle of Timmy’s eyes on the side of his face until the call finally disconnects.

“Fuck, Armie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…she’s pissed, isn’t she?”

Armie lets out a low breath and takes another deep inhale before turning to meet his eyes. “Yeah, probably. But I don’t care. It was worth it to see your face light up when you talked to them. And they’ve missed you, too. It was good for all of you. Liz will just have to get over it. I’ll talk to her, it’ll be fine.”

Timmy looks at him skeptically for a beat before lowering his eyes to his lap. “Well, I really appreciate it, anyway. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen them. They’ve gotten so big, I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m with them all the time and I can’t believe it either.”

That gets a small smile in reaction, but it fades a few seconds later. “Well, you should definitely get going.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He eyes the chess board, trying to think of something to say to make it less awkward. “Next time, we will actually finish the game.”

A bark of laughter escapes Timmy’s throat and he rolls his eyes in exasperation. “I dunno, man, I might be a lost cause.”

“Nah, you’ll get it. Just takes practice.”

“Right. Goodnight, Armie.”

Just as Armie steps outside into the warm night air, his phone buzzes in his pocket signaling a text message. He winces, figuring it’s a passive aggressive text from Liz, but when he takes his phone out to look, it’s just a message from Nicole asking if he can stop by the store on his way back and get eggs. He types out a quick reply and starts walking.

The store is a couple blocks out of his normal route, but he doesn’t mind the extra few minutes to clear his head. He knows he’s navigating through tricky waters both with Liz and Timmy, and it’s not easy to know the right course to steer sometimes. He gets to the store just as they are getting ready to close and grabs the eggs, giving the sales clerk an appreciative smile when he checks out.

He’s almost back to the apartment when he steps into a crosswalk and just happens to glance up at the street sign as he crosses. It takes him half a second to realize why it seems familiar, but when he remembers, he stops dead in the middle of the street. It’s the same street where Timmy had been hit, the very same crosswalk he’s standing frozen in now. He suddenly can’t breathe, his lungs squeezed tight with fear as all the possible “what if” scenarios crash through him.

And then all of the sudden there’s a blinding light and a loud blaring sound, and he refocuses just in time to see a car headed right for him, the driver slamming on his breaks in a desperate attempt to stop before the car smashes into Armie’s unmoving body. Luckily, the car skids to a halt about 3 feet in front of him, but Armie is still frozen in place, the shock of the entire event too much for him to process. It hits him all at once that this is the same thing Timmy saw, exactly what he felt that night, only he hadn’t been as lucky as Armie just was.

It’s not until the driver gets out and starts to approach him, a cross between annoyance and worry on his face that he breaks out of his spell and immediately takes off running, leaving the poor man standing there wondering what the hell happened.

It’s a miracle that the eggs aren’t completely smashed by the time he reaches the apartment, heaving in desperate breaths from running like a madman for the last 2 blocks and then up several flights of stairs to the safety of the Chalamet apartment.

He can feel wetness on his cheeks as he opens the door, but he tries his best to ignore it. He stumbles into the kitchen to put the eggs in the fridge and finds Nicole already in there putting away the last of the dishes from their meal earlier. She takes one look at him and immediately abandons the cereal bowl she’s holding and rushes to him, carefully taking the eggs from his shaking hands and places them down before pulling him to her in the most motherly hug he can remember getting in his life.

He’s more than grateful for the comfort, though he manages to hold back the fresh wave of tears that threaten to fall. When she pulls back a minute later, she glances up at him tenderly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

When he shakes his head no, not trusting his own voice right now, she nods, taking both of his huge hands in hers, squeezing tightly for a minute before releasing him, moving back further into the kitchen and rummaging through the cabinets above the sink.

She wordless pulls down two tumblers and then reaches up on her tiptoes to grab the bottle of expensive whiskey they keep for special occasions, or in this case, an emergency drinking session. She pours the glasses and silently slides one in front of Armie, lifting hers in a salute. He takes a deep breath and picks up the glass, quietly clinking it with Nicole’s before downing half the glass in one huge gulp.

Neither of them speak for several minutes, until finally Nicole nudges his shoulder with his own. “Did I ever tell you about the time Timmy was convinced he would turn into Spiderman if he got a spider to bite him?”

A slow grin creeps over his face. He’d heard the story before, but listens intently as she tells it again, along with several more stories about Timmy’s childhood, allowing the memories of the family he wishes he’d had wash over him just like the alcohol sliding warm down his throat and pooling low in his belly. Once they finish a second glass of whisky each, Armie’s eyelids start to feel very heavy, and Nicole gives him a kiss on the cheek and another comforting hug before sending him off to bed. He’s asleep within minutes, the image of little Timmy following him into his dreams.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am back with another update because I couldn't wait to get this one written, lol. So this chapter is the entire reason this fic even exists. The main scene in this was my original starting point that I knew I wanted to write, and I kinda used that to figure out the rest of the story based around this scenario. It marks the major turning point in the story in more ways than one, and I hope you will enjoy where it goes from here!
> 
> Thank you for all the wonderful, encouraging comments on the last chapter after that long hiatus. It was really overwhelming and touching to see how much love for this story there still is, and it means a lot to me that you all take the time to leave your thoughts and kind words. You guys are the best. <333

Armie wakes late the next morning, groggy from the previous night’s emotional rollercoaster coupled with the whisky. When he goes to check the time on his phone, he discovers it’s not on the nightstand where he usually keeps it. Groaning in annoyance, he drags himself out of bed and putters into the kitchen for some much needed caffeine.

The apartment is quiet, everyone already gone to the hospital to be with Timmy. But there’s coffee left for him with a note from Nicole to take his time. He spots his phone to the right of the stove, where he vaguely remembers leaving it last night after one of Nicole’s stories about Timmy led him to look something up on Youtube. And of course, the battery was completely dead. After plugging it into the charger on the far end of the counter, he pours the coffee into a mug and takes a long gulp, relishing the way the warm liquid slides so smoothly down his throat and pools in his stomach.

He takes his time finishing the cup, giving the caffeine a chance to work its magic and perk him up a bit. It works pretty well, and once he feels more human again, he makes a quick breakfast. There’s a part of him that’s eager to get back to the hospital, the events of last night still lingering in his mind. He feels strangely connected to Timmy now in a way he hadn’t been before, having been given a new perspective about what he went through with the accident, as well as a renewed sense of gratitude for the way things turned out, for both of them.

After a quick shower to wash away the sweat and grime from the previous evening, he starts toward the hospital. There’s a knot of nervous excitement that grows in his stomach the closer he gets, and he feels a little ridiculous until he realizes that the last time he felt this way was the beginning of the Call Me By Your Name promo tour. It feels like that was an entirely different life than what he’s living now, but somehow being around Timmy again had awoken these feelings in him that had been dormant for so long.

He’s on a first name basis with most of the hospital staff by now, and he greets everyone he passes on the way to Timmy’s room with a warm smile, stopping to ask a couple of them about their families. One of the anesthesiologist’s sons had a birthday the previous week and she shows Armie a picture of him with cake all over his face and a huge grin.

As he’s approaching the door to Timmy’s room, he hears a series of frustrated grunts and a loud “Fuck!” followed by a crashing sound, and Armie’s heartrate immediately skyrockets as panic seizes him, his mind going to all the worst case scenarios it can come up with. He practically rips the handle off the door as he bursts into the room, eyes wide, frantically searching the floor, expecting to find an unconscious, bleeding Timmy sprawled on it.

“Fuck, Timmy, what happ –”

He stops short at the sight that greets him instead. Timmy, sitting up in bed, face bright red, frantically scrambling to pull the blanket that had been pushed to the side back over his lap with his left hand, which was currently without the brace that is usually wrapped around the wrist. He barely registers the rolling food tray that is tipped over on its side next to the bed, which had been the crashing sound he heard. But all he can focus on is the very unmistakable tent in Timmy’s crotch area that no amount of blankets could hide.

He doesn’t realize he’s gawking until Timmy clears his throat and moves his hand over the area in an attempt at modesty. “I uh, I wasn’t…I didn’t think I would see you today.”

It takes Armie a minute to process what Timmy said, and even when he does, he’s not sure he understands. He forces himself to tear his eyes away from Timmy’s now mostly covered lap to meet his eyes, brows furrowing in confusion. “What, why not? I’m here every day.”

Timmy’s eyes break from his and land somewhere on the floor, and now he’s even more confused. “Well yeah, but after last night, I just…wasn’t sure…” Timmy trails off, and it finally dawns on him what Timmy means.

Taking a couple steps further into the room, careful to avoid the cup of jello that had skidded across the floor when the tray tipped over, he tries to draw Timmy’s eyes back up to his. “Hey, I told you, I’m here for _you_. And Liz knows that. As long as you have to be in here, she doesn’t get a say about how much time I spend with you. If I want to stay for a full 24 hours, it’s my choice. Ok?”

Timmy nods, though he still doesn’t meet Armie’s eyes right away. But after a few seconds, a small smile plays on his lips. “I wonder what you’d have to say to Quinn to make that happen.” The smile turns into a full-on smirk when he lifts his eyes to connect with Armie’s.

The change in Timmy’s demeanor catches Armie off guard and he lets out a laugh that’s a mixture of surprise and relief. “Yeah, right. You’re just jealous.” He returns Timmy’s smirk with one of his own and Timmy rolls his eyes in response.

The tension clears away, and now that Armie’s heartrate is back to normal and he knows Timmy is fine, his mind circles back to the scene he had accidentally walked in on.

Raising one eyebrow in amusement, he can’t stop himself from asking. “Dude, were you seriously just trying to jerk off?” Timmy’s face goes beet red in an instant, and Armie doesn’t even need to hear Timmy try to stutter out an explanation, the answer is written all over his face. “In the middle of the day in an unlocked hospital room? That’s bold, T.”

Watching Timmy’s face go from mortified to irritated in two seconds flat is highly amusing, and he can’t quite swallow back the giggle that bubbles up from his throat. “Yeah well, I _thought_ I was going to be alone. The doctor was just here and won’t be back for hours, and my parents had to leave to help my grandma with something, and Pauline is having a virtual meeting with her director…and you…” Timmy trails off, having already explained why he wasn’t expecting Armie to show up.

When Timmy continues, his voice is quieter. “It’s just…it’s been _weeks_ , and I just needed to…but my stupid _gimp hand_ …” Timmy’s left hand flops around over his legs, and things suddenly start to make a bit more sense. “It’s the worst case of blue balls ever, man. It fucking sucks.”

If it were anyone else but Timmy, he’d bust out laughing and tease them mercilessly, but looking over at Timmy’s pathetic face, his heart squeezes in empathy. He knows how hard it is to jerk off left-handed to begin with, but not being able to close your hand into a tight enough fist to get the relief you need must be absolute torture.

“I can help you, if you want.”

The words are out of his mouth before he even has time to think about their true implications, solely focused on the need to be there Timmy in any way he can. But the way Timmy completely freezes and looks at him like he just grew wings and a tail makes him really think about what he just offered to do.

They’re both completely silent for a beat, until finally Timmy gives a nervous chuckle and rolls his eyes. “Haha, real funny, asshole.” He’s trying to play it off as a joke, giving Armie an out, to take it back and pretend he didn’t seriously just offer to jerk his best friend off, but Armie can clearly see the tension in Timmy’s neck, the way his jaw is clenched tightly, and he knows he can’t just take it back now, no matter what the consequences are of following through.

Armie takes one more step forward, bringing him flush with the side of the bed. “I…I mean it. I could…you know, offer a helping hand, as it were.” He tries for a smile to show he’s being sincere, but there’s a knot the size of a fist in his gut as he anticipates Timmy’s answer to his rather extreme proposal.

He watches about a thousand different emotions play out over Timmy’s face before it settles on a final one: pure disbelief. “You’re fucking with me, right? You’re not seriously offering to _jerk me off_ , are you?!”

Armie isn’t sure why Timmy’s reaction stings so much, but he can’t help but feel slightly dejected at the idea that Timmy thinks he would mess with him when he’s clearly in need of release after going without it for so long. Still, he tries to play it off with a nonchalant shrug, not wanting to let Timmy see how his reaction affected him. “It’s not like I haven’t seen your junk before. Fuck, you ended up rubbing it all over my thigh for several days, if I recall correctly. It doesn’t have to mean anything, I’m just offering to give you what you need, since you aren’t able to do it yourself right now.”

Timmy just gawks at him with his mouth open, obviously not expecting Armie to double down on his suggestion. Finally, after a minute of neither of them saying anything, and Armie’s stomach so tied in knots he feels like he’s going to puke any second, Timmy’s entire body deflates and he sinks back against the mattress. “I…” He stops, eyes dropping back to his lap, where his erection has visibly gone down a bit but is still close to half-mast. “Uh, thanks. For the offer. But…I think it would just be too weird. No offense.”

The amount of disappointment he feels at Timmy’s rejection is not something Armie had anticipated. He figured he’d feel relieved, and he does a bit, but it’s not the overriding emotion, and he’s not sure what to make of that. But the one thing he does know is that he doesn’t want to push things and make Timmy uncomfortable, so he gives a short nod and a stilted smile. “It’s fine, I get it. It was a crazy idea, anyway. Just wanted to feel useful, I guess.” He gives a breathy, self-deprecating chuckle and jams his hands into his pants pockets, suddenly feeling exposed and not sure what to do with them.

Timmy eyes him warily for a minute before speaking again. “I do appreciate that you wanted to help.”

Armie nods again, almost on impulse, not sure how else to respond at this point. Another several awkward beats go by before he realizes his presence is probably not exactly wanted at that moment. He clears his throat and takes one hand out of his pocket to rub the back of his neck. “Well, uh, I guess I’ll leave you to it, then. Good luck, man. I hope you can get some relief.”

“Uh, right. Yeah thanks.” Timmy sounds surprised by the announcement of Armie’s departure, almost like he hadn’t expected Armie to go even though he’d clearly been in the middle of things when Armie had barged in and interrupted.

It takes another few seconds before he forces himself to turn and walk back to the door, inwardly cringing over the entire situation. He’s not even sure where any of it had come from. It’s not like he _wanted_ to give Timmy a handjob, it had just been the only thing he could think of in the moment. And now Timmy probably thinks he’s a perverted freak for even suggesting it.

He’s got his hand on the door handle and is about to turn it when he hears the bedsheets ruffle behind him, followed by a barely audible voice. “Wait.” It’s so quiet, for a second he thinks maybe he imagined it. But deep down he knows he didn’t, and that Timmy really did ask him to wait.

His entire body freezes, hand still on the door handle. He has absolutely no idea what to expect when Timmy speaks again. And moreover, what he _wants_ for him to say. There’s a long silence, and he doesn’t dare turn around yet, unable to face looking at Timmy while his mind and body are still so conflicted about everything.

Then finally, a long sigh comes from behind him. “I…ok.”

That doesn’t make anything clearer. He slowly turns back to face Timmy, who is picking at the loose threads of his blanket and not meeting his eyes. “Ok…what?”

Another sigh, though this one is almost like a defeated huff. “Ok…I um, I accept your…ya know, offer. To help.” His eyes stay resolutely on the blanket but there’s a splash of pink spreading over his cheeks and Armie’s heart stutters to a halt as he looks at him, clearly nervous but just desperate enough to agree to Armie’s proposition.

Armie slowly walks back over toward the bed, giving Timmy plenty of time to change his mind and tell him to get the fuck out, but when he reaches the bed and Timmy still can’t meet his gaze, he’s not sure this is such a good idea after all.

“Timmy, look at me, please.”

It takes a few seconds for Timmy to comply, but he finally does, and there’s a look of quiet determination behind his eyes that Armie can’t help but respect. “We don’t have to do this if it’s too weird. The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable or violated in some way.”

Timmy’s eyes go wide at that, his face twisting in horror at the suggestion. “No, it’s not that! I would never feel violated by you. It’s just…” He pauses, sucking his lower lip between his teeth for a moment before continuing. “It’s just been a while since anyone else has…ya know, aside from me. I don’t even know why it matters, I’m just being ridiculous.”

The knowledge that Timmy hasn’t been with anyone for a while is slightly surprising, given how high his star his risen over the past couple of years. But then when he thinks about it, it makes perfect sense. Timmy has been working almost nonstop for years, and he isn’t the type to have a bunch of casual partners. So the chance for him to have the time to establish any kind of real relationship with him working so much is quite low.

“It’s fine, man. No judgement here. We all go through dry spells now and then.” He doesn’t add that he can personally relate, seeing as he and Liz haven’t had sex in almost 6 months. She has occasionally tried, but he’s always either too tired or just not in the mood, and more recently her attempts have dropped off almost completely. He doesn’t know what it says about their relationship that he’s quickly become best friends with his right hand and he almost doesn’t miss the sex they used to have.

He can see some of the tension seep out of Timmy’s body, and all of the sudden it hits him that they are _doing this_. It’s too late to back out now, and the thing that shocks him the most is that he doesn’t even _want_ to back out. Unorthodox as it may be, he’s strangely grateful that he can be there for Timmy in this way.

“So uh…you want me to…?” He waits for the go ahead, just to give Timmy one last chance to change his mind if it’s too much. But after swallowing thickly, Timmy gives a small nod and reaches down to where the blanket is covering his still partially hard dick. Before he pulls it off to uncover himself, though, Armie stops him. “Wait, hang on.”

He sees the anxiety in Timmy’s eyes when he tells him to stop, but he gives his best reassuring smile before quickly walking back to the door and turning the lock to ensure they have full privacy. The instant relief shows on Timmy’s face when he sees what Armie is doing. “Yeah, smart idea. Wish I had thought of that.”

Armie snorts in response, but he’s grateful to see a hint of a smile on Timmy’s face as he makes his way back to the bed. He hovers awkwardly for a minute, realizing that standing isn’t exactly the ideal position for this particular task, and if he sits in the chair, it will be almost impossible to find a good angle. In lieu of other options, he gingerly settles on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle Timmy’s injured limbs too much.

Timmy’s eyes find his once he’s settled into a mostly comfortable position, and a silent understanding passes between them, the level of trust he’s never truly had with anyone else reflected back at him, allowing Timmy to be vulnerable with him in this new way they’ve never been before but somehow doesn’t seem as scary because it’s _them_.

Taking a deep breath, Armie slowly pushes the blanket to the side to reveal Timmy’s bare cock, the waistband of the pair of too-big sweatpants - which the doctor had finally given him the ok to wear a few days ago so he didn’t have to deal with the scratchy material of the hospital gown – had been pulled down and tucked behind his balls so he didn’t have any obstructions when stroking himself.

The sight of Timmy’s dick is far from new, although he’s never seen it fully erect. He has definitely _felt_ it in that state, however, and suddenly the memories of their summer in Italy spring to mind, the hazy nights spent rehearsing their scenes and the long days spent together practically glued at the hip. It seems like several lifetimes ago now, but the feelings that the memories of that summer evoke are still just as strong as they were back then.

Reaching over, Armie closes his fist loosely around Timmy’s cock, the weight of it in his hand heavier than he anticipated. He hears Timmy’s sharp inhale at the touch, and his eyes shoot up to meet Timmy’s. “Ok?”

Timmy holds his breath for a beat before nodding and exhaling slowly. Once Armie’s sure Timmy’s not going to freak out, he shifts his upper body to the side a bit more to get a better angle, tightening his grip a bit around Timmy’s length, which has started to perk back up with the new sensations. “Umm, so I’ve only ever done this on myself, so…if I do something you don’t like, or want me to do it a different way, you’ll have to instruct me.” Looking back over at Timmy, he can see the pink creeping up the sides of his face again, but to his credit, he keeps his gaze steady and gives another nod, seeming to still be onboard with things.

And with that, he begins slowly moving his hand up and down the length of Timmy’s cock, feeling it fill out in his hand with each stroke. It doesn’t take long before he’s fully hard again, the skin smooth and warm against his palm. And after another minute, he hears a loud exhale from Timmy, and when he looks back up, he sees Timmy’s head dropped back against the pillow, eyes closed, with his long neck exposed, dark chestnut curls fanned out against a backdrop of the stark white pillowcase, cheeks flushed and his bottom lip between his teeth.

The sight of Timmy in such a state takes his breath away for a minute, and his rhythm falters on Timmy’s cock for a brief second before he regains his composure and resumes stroking more steadily. Timmy doesn’t even seem to notice, too caught up in the pleasurable sensations to realize that Armie’s chest had begun to grow tight and his own breath had picked up a notch.

He notices a bead of precome start to form at the tip of Timmy’s cock, and on the next upstroke, he swipes his thumb over it, gathering the liquid and spreading it down over the length of it as he moves back down again. That earns him an honest-to-god _whimper_ from Timmy, which does nothing to stop the heat that’s started creeping up his own face.

With the added bit of slickness, his strokes become easier and faster, which, if the increasing number and volume of groans is any indication, seems to be what Timmy likes. He tightens his grip a little more just to experiment, and the needy whine that escapes Timmy’s throat at the action tells him his instincts were right. He keeps up the faster pace and watches as more precome dribbles from the tip and slides down, making everything nice and wet and producing a squelching sound with every move of his wrist.

It only takes another couple of minutes before he feels Timmy’s hand land just above his knee, and he looks up to find Timmy’s wide eyes staring right at him, pupils blown so wide in pleasure that they are almost completely black. There’s something about the intensity of the moment, seeing Timmy at his most vulnerable, completely open and giving himself over to the pleasure that Armie is giving him, that sends a jolt of electricity through his whole body. His breath catches when Timmy lets out one more sinful sounding moan and his fingers dig deeper into the meat of his thigh.

“F -fuck, I’m gonna –”

Before Timmy can even finish sputtering out his warning, the first spurt of hot liquid shoots over his hand, and Armie manages to tear his eyes away from Timmy’s just in time to see several more long ropes of white erupt from Timmy’s cock like a geyser. It seems to go on forever, the pressure building up for so many weeks finally allowed to be released.

He almost doesn’t notice how hard Timmy had been gripping him until finally one final dribble makes its way out of Timmy’s cock and then Timmy’s entire body goes slack, completely spent by the intensity of his orgasm. He looks down at his own hand, completely covered in Timmy’s come, and has to swallow back the sound that threatens to break free from his throat at the sight.

When he’s finally able to lift his gaze to meet Timmy’s again, Timmy is breathing heavily, eyes hooded and a look of pure relief on his face. His heartrate picks up again seeing how blissed out Timmy looks, and the knowledge that he was the cause of that look sparks a feeling in his gut that he can’t explain. 

There’s a long beat where neither of them move or speak, but then he realizes that he’s got Timmy’s drying come all over him, and Timmy’s stomach is in a similar state of mess. Clearing his throat, he finally releases Timmy’s softening cock from his grip and shifts his weight to the edge of the bed again. “Let me go find a towel or something.”

Timmy nods and his hand slips from Armie’s leg as Armie moves off the bed to stand, careful to keep his soiled hand from touching anything. He quickly moves across the room and over to the small bathroom area, turning on the sink with his clean hand. He starts to move his come-covered hand under the spray, but just before the water can wash the evidence of Timmy’s pleasure away completely, he freezes. He’s seized by the sudden curiosity to know what it tastes like, if it’s bitter like his was the one time he tasted himself, or would it be sweeter, or more earthy.

He starts to move his hand back away from the sink, with the intention of bringing it toward his mouth, when he catches sight of himself in the mirror and realizes what he’s about to do. He has a momentary freakout where he’s not at all sure why he’s suddenly so interested to know what his best friend’s come tastes like, and he quickly shoves his hand under the water and watches as the entire mess is washed away down the drain, as if it had never happened.

After quickly drying off with a few more paper towels than is really necessary, he grabs another couple for Timmy, wetting one and leaving the other dry, before taking them back out to a half-asleep Timmy. He avoids Timmy’s eyes as he wipes up the mess on Timmy’s stomach first with the wet towel and then the dry one, the incident in the bathroom having left him feeling a bit uneasy and raw.

After he disposes of the towels in the trash can, he gathers up enough courage to finally look at Timmy, who gives him a lazy smile. “Uh…thanks, man. I really needed that.”

Despite the weirdness, he can’t help but return Timmy’s smile with a genuine one of his own. “Yeah, of course. Happy to help.”

They’re quiet for a beat before Timmy gives a contented sigh. “You wanna try another game of chess? Maybe now I’ll be more willing to actually learn the rules.” Timmy tries to chuckle but it quickly morphs into a yawn, and Armie can see the pull of sleep threatening to take him over any minute.

“Maybe a bit later. You should try to get some rest, dude. Take advantage of that post-orgasm coma while it lasts.” His lips turn up into a smirk, and Timmy lets out a quiet giggle in response.

“You’re probably right. Will you come back, later?”

Armie pauses, taking in the hopeful look on Timmy’s face and trying to ignore the pang it causes in his gut. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be here. Enjoy your rest.”

“Mmmhmm.” Timmy’s eyes are already drifting closed, and he barely gets to the door before he hears the soft sound of Timmy’s snores emanating behind him.

There’s a bit of commotion in the hallway when he steps out of Timmy’s room, a patient who doesn’t want to stay in his wheelchair and keeps trying to climb out while the nurse attempts to wheel him back to his room. Armie decides sticking around and waiting for Timmy to wake is not the best idea right now, and after what just happened, he desperately needs to clear his head.

He decides to take a long walk around the city, not even worried about whether or not he will be recognized at this point. As much as he tries to think of something else, _anything_ else, his mind keeps flashing back to images of Timmy’s blissed out face, keeps hearing the sounds he made while Armie’s hand was on his dick, bringing him a kind of pleasure that friends don’t usually give each other. He can still feel the weight of Timmy’s cock in his hand, can see that hand completely covered in his come after he finally brought Timmy over the edge.

And he knows he doesn’t have a right to be bothered by any of this. It was _his_ idea, after all. And when Timmy had graciously given him an out, he hadn’t taken it, had thought it would be completely fine to jerk off his best friend and that nothing would change in the aftermath. The realization that he was very wrong keeps him wandering around the city for the next three hours. He isn’t even sure _what_ changed, or how it will affect their friendship going forward. But he knows that he’ll never be able to erase the image of Timmy’s post-orgasmic face from his mind, and that knowledge stirs something in him that he isn’t sure what to do with yet.

It isn’t until someone stops him to ask for directions that he realizes he doesn’t even have his phone with him. After frantically searching his pockets and having a moment of panic, it dawns on him that he never took it off the charger before the left the apartment earlier. He does his best to give the person directions from memory of the few times he’d stayed in the city for various work projects, then takes the fastest route back to the Chalamet’s apartment to grab his phone before he heads back to the hospital like he promised.

He takes the stairs two at a time, almost bumping into an elderly couple who were making their way down as he was racing up. He slips the key Nicole gave him into the lock, grateful that he didn’t forget _that_ , too, and opens the door to the apartment.

From just a few steps into the hallway, he can spot his phone sitting on the edge of the counter right where he left it, and he heaves a sigh of relief. He takes another few steps and is about to reach out and grab it when he notices a bit of movement out of the corner of his eye. It startles him and he stops short, turning toward the entrance to the living room to see what had caught his attention.

It turns out to be Nicole, who had been sitting on the couch and had stood up when Armie entered. His lips start to turn up in a warm smile when he realizes that she isn’t alone in the apartment. His eyes slowly shift from Nicole, who has a rather stricken look on her face, to the other person still sitting on the couch, and his blood runs cold when he sees who it is.

There, sitting on the Chalamet’s couch and shooting him a glare so icy it could turn him into a popsicle if he stood there long enough, is Liz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the evil cliffhanger! I will try not to leave you waiting for too long before the next update, though there are a couple of time-sensitive things I need to work on in the next week, but I promise to get back to this asap. I hope you enjoyed the chapter as a whole, though, and are excited as I am about where things go next! <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back with another update for you guys. :)
> 
> I had originally planned to include two other important scenes in this chapter, but of course it's me and I'm wordy as fuck, so I decided to wait and put them in the next chapter. So if this one feels like it drags a bit, I apologize. I do feel like most of what happens in this one is important set up for things to come, though. So I hope you can go with me and know that bigger things are coming soon. :D
> 
> And as always, thank you for all the amazing comments, kudos, and other support and love you all have expressed for this story. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying it so far. <3

All Armie can do for the next several seconds is silently stare at the woman he married and try not to think about the fact that the first emotion that ran through him upon seeing her after weeks of being apart is not relief, but dread.

“I – how – what’re you doing here?”

He knows the second the words leave his mouth that they were the exact wrong thing to say. He watches as Liz’s eyes narrow even further and her entire body stiffens at his question.

He’s just about to try and stutter out an apology when he catches sight of Nicole moving toward him, a sympathetic look on her face. “I’m gonna give you two some space. I’ll be in the bedroom if you need anything.” Armie nods and gives a tiny smile when her hand gently squeezes his arm as she passes by him on her way back down the hall, leaving him alone with his visably annoyed wife.

After a few excruciatingly awkward seconds where they just stare at each other in silence, Armie finally takes a few more steps into the living room, taking a deep breath as he prepares for the yelling match he’s sure is coming next.

Much to his surprise, Liz’s response is rather restrained, if not incredibly tense. “Is that all you have to say to me, after being away for weeks?”

Armie’s taken aback by her question, and his brain sputters for a minute in trying to come up with a decent response. “I...fuck, I’m sorry. It’s just…you caught me off guard, is all. I wasn’t expecting you to show up out of the blue without warning.”

“I’ll bet.”

The edge in her voice puts him immediately on the defensive, not sure exactly what she’s implying but already knowing he isn’t going to like it. “What does _that_ mean?”

Liz rolls her eyes and lets out a disgusted sigh before finally standing up and moving a few steps toward him, only a few feet separating them now. “Jesus fuck, Arms. _You_ don’t get to be the angry one here! You never called me back last night, and when I tried to call this morning, it went straight to voicemail. And I just…I panicked, ok?! You broke our deal, so I booked the first flight out here, like we always agreed was part of the deal if you were going to be here this whole time. So your family could be with you. Or were you too busy spending every waking hour with your _friend_ that you forgot about that?”

He’s about to snap back when something she said registers in his mind. “Wait, where are the kids?”

Liz lets out a long sigh and gestures with one hand toward the hallway where Timmy’s room is, where Armie’s been sleeping for weeks now, where his scent on Timmy’s pillow is probably stronger than Timmy’s at this point. “They’re taking a nap. It was a long flight and you know how Ford gets sick. They were both exhausted when we got here. Which was _two hours ago_ , by the way. Why the fuck didn’t you have your phone with you?!”

He tries his best to ignore the accusation in her tone and answers truthfully, hoping to diffuse the situation a little. “It wasn’t intentional. I’d left it out overnight and it was dead when I woke up, so I’d plugged it in to charge and forgot to grab it when I left earlier. I was just on my way back to get it.” He lets out a slow breath and runs a hand through his hair, all the adrenaline from his earlier encounter with Timmy draining from his body, leaving him completely spent. “Look, I’m sorry.” He pauses, really looking at her for the first time since he walked through the door. “It _is_ good to see you.”

The tension in Liz’s shoulders eases a bit, but she still doesn’t let her guard completely down. “Well I’m just glad Nicole was here to let us in. I sent the rest of our bags along to the hotel already.”

It takes Armie a few seconds to register the meaning of her statement. “Wait, what hotel?”

The look Liz gives him, like he’s the village moron, doesn’t help matters. “The hotel I booked for us.” When Armie just stares at her blankly, she rolls her eyes and huffs in frustration. “You don’t expect us to all stay _here_ , do you? There’s no way we’re living in this tiny apartment with two small kids who will be climbing the walls within 24 hours. It’s just not an option.”

Despite knowing she’s right about the logistics – there’s barely enough room for Armie alone without it feeling crowded at times, there’s no way 3 other people of _any_ size could comfortably squeeze into the Chalamet apartment for any length of time – he still feels a tinge of resentment at the implication that Timmy’s childhood home is somehow inferior to some sterile hotel room. It’s been Armie’s safe haven for the past few weeks – and if he’s being honest, for long before that – whenever he would visit the city and Timmy would bring him over to see his parents, it always felt a bit like coming home.

He opens his mouth to argue, at least on principle, but before he can get any words out, he hears a small voice call out from down the hall. “Daddy?” It’s Ford, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he stands in the doorway to Timmy’s bedroom. All the anger and frustration leaves his body in an instant, replaced by the overwhelming joy and relief at seeing his son, his breath catching in his throat as he watches Ford’s eyes slowly focus and spark to life with the sight of his daddy.

“Fordie.” He breathes his son’s name on a sigh, suddenly desperate to hold him in his arms. Before he can make it two steps in the direction of the hall, Harper comes bounding out of the room, pushing past a still half-asleep Ford and leaps into her father’s arms.

“You’re here!! I missed you, Daddy!”

He’s got a face full of hair and an armful of squirming limbs, but he couldn’t be happier as he pulls Harper close and kisses the top of her head and side of her face. “Yes, I’m here, baby. It’s so good to see you.”

Ford finally makes it over to them and Armie shifts Harper onto one hip so he can bend down and pick up his son with his free hand. The reunion feels a bit much after only a few weeks – he’s had jobs filming on location for longer in the past – and yet with everything that’s happened since he last saw his kids in person, he savors every second of their attention and love.

He notes the fact that Liz stays off to the side and doesn’t say anything, which he appreciates. He knows there’s still more to be discussed, and probably more arguments, but right now all he wants to do is cling tightly to his kids and never let go.

But after a couple minutes, Harper starts squirming to be put down. Ford seems content to stay put, already half asleep again leaning against Armie’s shoulder. Harper runs over to Liz and starts twirling the way she does when she wants something. “Mommy, can Timmy’s mommy show us the weird dolls again?”

Armie quirks his head, trying to figure out what Harper is talking about, but then he remembers that Nicole has a set of Russian nesting dolls that she picked up at a flea market several years ago. He’d noticed them one time when he’d been visiting with Timmy, and he’d felt an instant fondness in his chest, remembering how his grandmother used to entertain him for hours with those same dolls when he was a child. Knowing that Nicole had shown them to his kids makes his heart fill with warmth.

“No, baby, we’re gonna leave for the hotel soon. You can see them another time.”

Liz’s declaration about leaving the Chalamet’s seems to be upsetting for more than just himself, seeing how Harper instantly starts to pout and whine. “But I wanna stay here!”

Armie watches Liz tense up, trying to remain calm even though she’s obviously agitated. “We talked about this, Hops. There’s not enough room for all of us here. You’ll be much happier in a big hotel suite where you have more room to run around and play.”

Judging by the look on Harper’s face, she isn’t convinced, but she doesn’t argue. And when Liz finally looks back over at him, he’s sure he has a similar expression on his own face. But it’s clear in the way her eyes narrow that there’s no point in trying to change her mind. “I packed what I could find of your things already. You can check to make sure I didn’t miss anything, but now that the kids are awake, we should go.”

He bites back the knee-jerk reaction of irritation over her taking it upon herself to pack his bag and just gives a short nod. He sets Ford down gently on the couch, watching him curl into the cushions with his thumb in his mouth before turning and wordlessly moving across the room and into the hall to Timmy’s room.

When he pushes the door open, he spots his bag, packed and ready to go, in the corner of the room in front of the closet. There’s a pang in his chest at the thought of not being in this room anymore. It’s been a huge source of comfort to him in these weeks, a way to be close to Timmy even when he wasn’t physically with him. A way to remember what they were, and will hopefully get back to again. He feels like they are so close to finding it, but now with Liz being here and what happened this afternoon, he’s not sure what will happen.

He looks around the room to see if there’s anything of his left that Liz missed, but it looks exactly as it did when he first walked in a few weeks ago, as if he had never been there at all. Grabbing his bag, he makes his way to the door, gathering the strength to leave. It’s then that he spots his faded grey sweatshirt hanging over the back of Timmy’s desk chair. He starts to take a step to grab it, but something stops him. He stares at it a minute, perfectly draped, like it belongs there, part of the tapestry of Timmy’s life that now includes a small piece of his own woven into it. With a soft smile, he moves back out the door, sweatshirt remaining where it is.

Just as he reaches the living room again, watching Liz try to rouse a reluctant Ford, Nicole comes out from her bedroom with a warm smile.

“I guess you’re ready to go, then.”

Armie’s chest clenches painfully, torn between not wanting to leave this place, these people, but knowing he needs to be with his family now. It’s all he can manage to give a small nod, the lump in his throat preventing him from speaking.

Liz moves past him, holding onto both kids’ hands, and stops a few feet in front of Nicole. “It was very generous of you to let Armie stay here for so long.” Armie can hear the bit of lingering tension in her voice, but he can tell her words are sincere.

Nicole waves a hand and smiles. “It was our pleasure. We loved having him around. He’s been a godsend in helping us through all of this.”

There’s a brief pause before Liz responds. “Well, it’s nice he was here for you.” Armie clearly hears the unspoken “when he wasn’t there for me” and is about to step in when Harper interrupts and breaks away from Liz to give Nicole a hug goodbye. Ford follows suit a few seconds later, and once they finally let go, Liz says a quick goodbye and heads for the door of the apartment, looking back over her shoulder to Armie, a clear indication he should follow.

Armie nods in acknowledgment and hoists his bag over his arm. Liz doesn’t wait for him, though, already out the door and moving toward the stairs before he can cross the room.

When he reaches Nicole, they are both quiet for a few beats, a wordless exchange passing between them as they gaze at each other, a million emotions running through his body. 

“I really can’t thank you enough, for everything.”

But Nicole just shakes her head, a hint of wetness shining in the corners of her eyes. “No, I should be thanking _you_. And it’s not like this is goodbye, right? We’ll still see you at the hospital when you visit Timmy.”

“Right, of course.” He smiles despite the ache in his chest, wishing circumstances were different so he could be with the Chalamet’s _and_ his family all together. But it’s not the case, and he always knew Liz and the kids would be joining him here at some point, so he’d had it in the back of his mind that this would happen eventually. He just wasn’t prepared for it _today_.

Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulls out the small silver key that Nicole had given him the first night he came back here. “I guess you should have this.” But to his surprise, when he extends his hand out, she curls her own around it and pushes it back toward him.

“You hang onto it. You never know when you might need it again.”

Armie wants to cry with relief and gratitude, wants to hold her and never let go, wants so many things. But all he can manage is a barely audible, “Ok,” and a shaky nod.

When she leans up on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his forehead and whispers, “You are welcome here anytime, for any reason,” Armie almost loses his composure entirely. It takes every ounce of strength he has to tear himself away from her embrace and move toward the door, but he stops before he steps through. Looking back over his shoulder, he gives her one last sad smile.

“If I had a mother like you…a lot of things would be different. Thanks for letting me be a Chalamet temporarily.” He gives a small wave, but just as he’s about to close the door behind him, he hears a quiet voice call back to him.

“The offer to make it permanent is always available, if you want it.”

He freezes, hand still on the doorknob, his heart in his throat. He bites back the sob that threatens to escape at Nicole’s words, taking several deep breaths before he trusts his voice again.

“I’d love nothing more.” It comes out barely above a whisper, more to himself than anything, not even sure Nicole can hear him. But just saying it loosens something in him so that he can breathe again, the idea that he could ever be lucky enough to be part of such an amazing family giving him something to hang onto when everything else seems so uncertain.

He makes his way down the eight flights of stairs and out to where there’s a luxury town car waiting for him with his family already inside. After tossing his bag in the trunk, he climbs in beside Harper and they take off toward whichever extravagant hotel Liz has picked out for them to stay in for the remainder of their time in the city.

As they make their way through the city streets, they pass by the hospital, and Armie’s chest tightens when he remembers he’d promised Timmy he’d come back later. He struggles with how to tell Liz, knowing the idea would only be met with resistance. In the end, he is spared the responsibility of bringing the subject up himself when Harper looks out the window and sees the sprawling building, eyes going wide.

“Is that the hospital where Timmy is?!”

Armie can feel Liz’s eyes on him, but he resolutely doesn’t turn to look, focusing instead on his eager daughter. “Yep, he’s in there, getting better and stronger every day.”

“Can we go see him? Pleeeeeease??” 

Armie’s chest tightens at Harper’s plea, wanting more than anything to just say yes and deal with the consequences later. But the rational part of his brain kicks in at the last second, and he turns to meet Liz’s piercing stare, giving a half-shrug. “I did tell him I’d come back tonight. I didn’t get much time with him earlier.” He tries his best not to think about why that was the case, not ready to have that conversation with _anyone_ yet, much less his very suspicious wife.

He watches Liz take three deep breaths, trying to keep from exploding at the mere suggestion that they spend their first night in weeks as a family with Timmy as well, before she finally manages to answer, turning to look at Harper with a smile that was more like a grimace. “Not tonight, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

“But – “

“No ‘buts’, I said not tonight.”

The last sentence comes out much more terse, and Harper turns back to look out the window, full pout on her lips. Armie risks a sideways glance back over to her, but her eyes are fixed firmly out the front windshield, so with a small sigh, he decides to let it go. He prays Timmy won’t be too upset once he explains the situation. He just doesn’t know _how_ to explain it.

They make it to the hotel and up to their suite, where the rest of the bags Liz had sent ahead are waiting for them. The kids bound away to find something to entertain them, and Liz stalks off to the master bathroom, not reappearing for more than 20 minutes.

By then, Armie has already ordered a pizza for them to have for dinner, too tired to cook anything and not in the mood to be around other people in a restaurant. Liz gives him a skeptical glance but does eventually eat a slice.

Once they finish eating, they decide to watch a movie as a family. It’s almost the kids’ bedtime, but they figure they can make an exception since they’d slept for a while at the Chalamet’s. Somewhere in the middle of the movie, Armie’s mind drifts back to Timmy, and he knows he should try to let him know what happened and why he couldn’t come back like he’d promised.

He reaches into his pocket for his phone, opening his message app and scrolling to Timmy’s name. But his mind goes blank as he stares down at the phone, unable to think of anything to type that doesn’t sound completely lame or an excuse or like he doesn’t want to see him. Movie completely forgotten now, he spends the next several minutes typing out and erasing words on his phone that have suddenly ceased to have all meaning.

He’s on his seventh attempt to not sound like a total jackass for not coming back when he said he would when suddenly a hand reaches over and plucks his phone out of his grip without warning.

“You haven’t seen your kids in weeks, the least you could do is be present with them for a couple of hours before they go to sleep.”

Armie clenches his jaw, resisting the urge to point out the absurdity of Liz’s statement, seeing as how both of the kids are completely engrossed in what’s happening on the screen in front of them and probably wouldn’t even notice if he left the room entirely. But despite his overwhelming annoyance, the one thing they’d always been careful about was not to argue in front of the kids. He knows they are still likely to pick up on other cues despite their best efforts, but he tries to shield them from the worst of it whenever possible. He wordlessly turns back to face the screen, though he doesn’t even bother trying to pay attention to what’s going on.

When the movie ends, they get the kids ready for bed. Armie takes over most of it, having missed getting to do this part for the last few weeks. Harper goes down pretty easily, but Ford is a little clingier than usual when he tries to get him in his pajamas. He decides to spend a few minutes cuddling him in the bed until Ford finally falls asleep, little hands that were curled into his shirt finally going slack.

After he checks on Harper one more time, finding her still sound asleep, he braces himself and heads into the master bedroom of their suite. He finds the main room empty, but the bathroom door closed and a light shining through underneath the door. Sighing quietly, he starts to unpack his bag, knowing they’ll be here until however long it takes Timmy to fully recover.

He’s just starting to get undressed when the bathroom door opens and Liz comes sweeping out in her silky nightgown, hair down and makeup removed. She doesn’t say anything at first, just moves over to one of her many bags to retrieve something. Armie lets out a slow breath, wondering if maybe she’s just going to give him the silent treatment all night. But just as he’s unbuckling his belt, she finally speaks.

“Would it kill you to act like you actually want to spend time with us instead of pouting about not going back to the hospital tonight? You were gone for _hours_ earlier, and you were there until way past visiting hours were over last night. I think Timmy’s seen plenty enough of you lately. But we are your _family_ , Arms.”

Armie is grateful to have his back facing her so she doesn’t see the expression of exasperation on his face, knowing that will only escalate things into a full-blown fight. He takes a couple of deep breaths in through his nose before turning around to face her, trying to keep his voice calm and even.

“You think I don’t know that?”

“ _Do_ you?”

The accusation in her tone is a punch to the gut, and staying calm is not really an option anymore. “Of course I do. But Timmy is in the hospital right now, ok? The fucking _hospital_ , for Christ’s sake. With several broken bones, he can’t even walk! He could have fucking _died_ , Elizabeth!”

“But he didn’t. He’s fine, or is going to be.”

He can’t stop the incredulous laugh that punches out from his throat at how easily she dismisses him. He’s not sure how to even respond to that, so he doesn’t say anything.

They spend an awkward few seconds in silence before she speaks again. “Look, I get it, ok? You’re trying to be a good friend, or…whatever. I agreed to this insane plan for you to stay here for the duration of his recovery because I know you have some weird guilt complex about everything and you feel you need to. But he has plenty of family and friends here besides you. You shouldn’t need to spend that much time there, especially now that he’s past the worst of it.”

There are so many things he wants to say, to argue why he _does_ need to be there, why he _wants_ to be there. But all of his energy drains out of his body in that instant, and he doesn’t have it in him to try to explain a situation that he doesn’t even fully understand himself at this point.

Slumping his shoulders, he blows out a long breath and runs a hand through his hair. “Look, can we just…it’s been a long day, and I’m exhausted. Can we table this for tonight? Please?”

When he meets Liz’s gaze, he does his best to convey just how much her needs her to let this go for now. It seems to work, because he sees a bit of the tension release from her shoulders, eyes losing the sharp edge of anger as she gives a small nod.

He lets out a grateful sigh and continues the task of taking off his pants. When he gets them off, he’s left only in boxers. Normally he sleeps nude, but lately he’s gotten used to wearing boxers to sleep, having felt too awkward to sleep in Timmy’s bed completely naked. Putting one hand on the waistband, intending to pull them down and off now that he doesn’t need to feel weird, he hesitates a minute before finally pulling his hand away, leaving the garment on.

He goes to slide into the bed and notices the way Liz eyes the boxers, but she doesn’t ask or make any comment, for which he is grateful. She moves to the other side of the bed and gets under the covers as well, but not before getting in one last shot. “Don’t think we’re done discussing this.” And with that, she turns her back to him and turns the light off, casting the room in total darkness aside from the tiny sliver of light coming through the break in the heavy curtains that cover the window.

Armie tucks one arm under his head and stares up at the ceiling, willing his body to relax enough so that he can sleep. But with everything that’s happened in the last 24 hours, he can’t make his mind stop tripping over the thousands of thoughts that are swirling around. It’s a jumbled mess and he can’t make heads or tails of any of it. Except for one thought that keeps pushing its way to the forefront: Timmy.

He’s still awake an hour later, listening to his wife’s quiet breathing beside him and trying to figure out when the sound became foreign to him. A sudden light from the table beside the bed illuminates the room, and he looks over to see his phone, which Liz must have brought in and plugged into the charger while he was putting the kids down.

Reaching over, he sees that it was a notification from Twitter that had lit up his screen, and he quickly swipes it away. But instead of placing the phone down again, he taps back over to his messages. There’s nothing from Timmy, which shouldn’t be surprising and yet he can’t help but be slightly disappointed. But then he remembers that he’s the one who bailed on Timmy, not the other way around, and a flood of guilt flows through him once again.

He knows it’s late and that Timmy is probably already asleep, and he has an internal argument over whether or not to send something at this point. His thumb hovers over the tiny keyboard, but just as he starts to type out yet another version of the text he never managed to get quite right earlier, the door to their bedroom cracks open.

Harper is standing in the doorway with her stuffed elephant that she can’t sleep without. “Daddy? Can I sleep in here with you?”

Armie’s heart squeezes at the sound of his daughter’s small voice. Harper hasn’t slept in their bed for close to a year, and hearing her ask to now breaks something in him, realizing just how much his leaving abruptly in the middle of the night to fly across the country must have affected them.

“Of course, angel. Come ‘ere.”

Her immediate wide smile makes him ache all the more, and as soon as she climbs on the bed, he wraps her tightly in his arms for a long minute before he finally releases her and lets her settle comfortably in between them. And predictably, Ford appears in the doorway a couple minutes later, and when Armie invites him up as well, he charges at the bed and throws himself on, waking Liz momentarily in the process.

After a couple minutes of shuffling around to get everyone comfortable again, Armie lays back and wills himself to focus on the comforting warmth of his sleeping children next to him, and not on the boy who’s currently sleeping alone in a cold hospital room.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers! I'm back with another helping of angsty angst for you, lol.
> 
> So this chapter is the second part of what was supposed to be in the previous chapter before I decided to split them up for length. So this one also might seem a bit slow-moving, it was just because I needed to deal with the arrival of Liz and the kids and the change in dynamic that they all bring. The upcoming chapters will move along a bit more.
> 
> Also, I feel I should add a bit of warning, there's a *teeny tiny blink-and-you'll-miss-it* mention of Armie/Liz in this chapter, but it's nothing explicit and is super short. And in fact, nothing actually happens, more of an aborted attempt than anything, but I know some people are squicked out by any mention of it at all so I wanted to give a heads up, just in case. But honestly, it *shouldn't* be anything to worry about. And you can skip over it easily if you really feel you need to. The important part comes directly after that, anyway. ;)
> 
> So with that, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thank you so much for all the amazing comments and kudos, and the messages on tumblr and elsewhere expressing your love for this story. It is such a gift to have the best, most supportive readers in this fandom. Love you all. <333

Armie wakes with a grunt when a small arm collides with his stomach. He blinks open to find Ford, wide awake and smiling at him. “Sun’s up, daddy.” Letting out a sigh, knowing there won’t be any more sleep now, he reaches down to pull Ford closer to him.

“Right you are, buddy.”

Ford crawls up onto his chest willingly and grins down at Armie’s sleepy face. “I want pancakes.”

Armie’s lips twitch up in an amused grin. His son takes after him in a myriad of ways, but especially his love of food. “I’ll see what I can do.”

That seems to be the right response because Ford’s smile gets even wider and he starts making giggly happy noises. Armie tries to shush him but it’s too late, the commotion ends up rousing both Harper and Liz next to them. He gives Liz an apologetic look when she rolls over to meet his eyes, but she just shrugs and says nothing. It’s an oddly understated reaction from her but he doesn’t question it, more than happy to avoid starting the day with their usual bout of tension.

Once everyone is fully awake and dressed, Armie suggests they go to a small diner a couple blocks away because he knows they have amazing pancakes. He doesn’t mention that he only knows that because Timmy had taken him there one time and he’d ordered the biggest stack they had on the menu. Liz agrees without much fuss, and Armie tries not to be suspicious of how agreeable she’s being this morning.

The diner is pretty busy, but they manage to get a table with only a short wait. Once Ford is happily digging into his blueberry pancakes, Armie risks a look up from his own breakfast burrito and swallows thickly. “So uh, I figure after we’re done here, I’d go visit Timmy for a little while.”

He sees the way Liz stiffens, hoping against hope that she won’t make a scene in public. Her eyes drift up from her plate to meet his, and he sees the usual tension and irritation that’s ever-present whenever he brings up Timmy’s name, but there’s also a hint of something else, something he doesn’t quite recognize. “For how long?”

It takes him by surprise, expecting an immediate dismissal of his idea. “Uhh, I dunno, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.”

She makes a soft humming noise as she puts her fork down and looks over at the kids. “Well, I had thought we’d spend the afternoon in the park, as a family.” Armie braces for the next sentence, expecting a fight about his desire to spend time with Timmy. “Why don’t you take the kids with you for a little while, and then meet me back at the hotel at noon and we’ll go from there?”  
  


The suggestion catches him completely off guard, and all he can do is stare in shock until Harper pipes up beside him. “Yes! I wanna go see Timmy! Let’s go, Daddy!” There’s a tugging on his shirt and Ford joins in on the excitement as well.

Armie clears his throat, trying to keep his surprise at her reaction from being too obvious. “Uh yeah, that sounds great. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see them.”

“Good, then that’s settled.”

Liz goes back to her food and Armie is torn between his relief at how well Liz is taking things and his slight disappointment that he won’t really get a chance to talk to Timmy alone. After everything that happened yesterday, he knows he owes him a huge apology and explanation for not coming back. Not to mention the whole _other thing_ which they haven’t had time to properly discuss, which he certainly can’t do with the kids around.

They finish eating and Armie decides to get a cab for him and the kids to go to the hospital, while Liz goes back to the hotel to rest. It’s already after 10:30 and by the time they make it the several blocks to the hospital, he knows they’ll only have maybe 30 minutes or so before they have to leave again. It’s not nearly enough time, but he figures it will have to be ok for now, and maybe he can go back later in the day alone.

On the way to the hospital, Armie prepares Harper and Ford for what they will see when they get to Timmy’s room, and makes sure they know to be careful and not cause him any extra pain. They seem to understand, but he’s still worried about both how they will react to seeing Timmy with all of his injuries in person, and how Timmy will feel with them being there.

They reach the door to Timmy’s room just after 11:00, and Armie asks the kids to give him a minute with Timmy alone first. They nod in agreement but he can tell they are bursting with excitement and he won’t be able to keep them out for long. Taking a deep breath, he turns the handle and steps through the door, finding Timmy half-heartedly pushing a clump of mashed potatoes around the Styrofoam plate his lunch had come on.

Armie’s breath catches when Timmy looks up and sees him, surprise obvious in his expression. “H – hi. I uh, I didn’t know if I’d see you again.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and his first instinct is to get defensive – because how could Timmy possibly ever think that – but then he knows he has no right to be, considering that he _did_ bail on him with no explanation. “I’m so sorry, Timmy. I feel awful about not coming back last night. I didn’t mean to – I tried to text you, but I – “

He doesn’t get any further into his explanation because the door flings open and both Harper and Ford burst into the room, squealing happily at the sight of Timmy and running to his bedside. Armie calls out a warning to remember to be gentle, which thankfully they adhere to.

The look of shock on Timmy’s face borders on almost hurt, making Armie’s stomach lurch in guilt at not giving Timmy a heads up about the situation. But within seconds his expression shifts to one of pure joy, eyes sparking with delight when Harper leans up to kiss his cheek. Ford tries to follow suit, but he’s not quite tall enough to reach Timmy’s face with the bed tilted up, so instead he kisses Timmy’s elbow and Timmy giggles, reaching down to run his hand through Ford’s golden hair.

“We’ve missed you so much, Timmy. Sorry you’re sick.” Harper makes a sad face, and Armie’s heart melts when he sees the expression in Timmy’s eyes. The pure love Timmy has always had for his kids is one of the reasons Timmy has felt more like family to him than just another friend.

“I’ve missed you guys, too. It’s so great to see you.”

Armie takes the opportunity to step further into the room and try to explain. “Sorry about springing them on you like this. They showed up last night and they couldn’t wait to see you.”

Timmy gives him a measured look, and Armie knows that he’s figured out the other, unspoken part of this equation. If the kids are here, so is Liz. But after a beat, his expression softens. “Well, I’m always glad to see them. Thanks for bringing them by.” Timmy’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and he knows they’ll need to talk about this, but not right now.

Armie takes a seat by the bed and holds Harper on his lap. Timmy clears just enough space on the edge of the bed for Ford to perch on, and they spend the next 20 minutes together, the kids asking a million questions and Timmy showing off some of his new scars from the accident, which he calls his “survival trophies”.

Around 11:30, he knows they will need to start heading back to the hotel soon in order to meet Liz by noon, and he doesn’t want to risk being late. He tells the kids to say their goodbyes for now, with the promise that they can come back and visit again soon. Once they’ve given all their hugs and “I love you’s”, Armie bends down so he can be at their level.

“You guys think you can wait quietly in the hallway for a couple minutes? I need to talk to Uncle Timmy alone for just a quick minute, then we’ll go back to the hotel, ok?”

They nod, and Harper takes Ford’s hand, turning back to give one last wave to Timmy before making their way out into the hall. Once the door clicks behind them, Armie takes a deep breath and turns back to Timmy, whose face is schooled into a blank expression. “So, your family is here.”

The flatness in Timmy’s tone is surprising, but he can’t really blame him. Armie let’s out a sigh. “Yeah, I got back to the apartment last night and they were there waiting for me. I had no idea. Liz just got on a plane without even telling me she was coming.”

Timmy nods slowly, seeming to take in the information and process it. “Right.” There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again, this time with a distinct edge in his tone. “And you couldn’t have given me a heads up? Let me know what was going on? It’s not like I would’ve been mad that you wanted to spend time with your family, it’s just – “

Timmy stops short, looking down at the bed and picking at a loose thread on the blanket. He waits a beat to see if Timmy will continue, but he doesn’t. “It’s just what?”

Timmy sighs and clenches his eyes shut for a minute before opening them again and looking right into Armie’s eyes. “I thought…after what happened yesterday, that maybe…I dunno, maybe you were upset or freaked out or something. And that’s why you didn’t come back.”

The ice cold fear that runs down Armie’s back makes him want to scream. “No no no, oh god, Timmy. _No_. I promise it wasn’t anything like that. I was fully planning to come back, I only went to the apartment because I had forgotten my phone that morning and…well. They were there and I tried to get back here but I…couldn’t. I’m so sorry. I kept trying to text you but I couldn’t figure out what to say and then Liz…” He trails off, knowing that nothing he could say would make up for allowing Timmy to feel like what had happened between them had made Armie not want to see him anymore. “I’m really sorry, Tim. I was a total asshole.”

Timmy is quiet for a minute, but then there’s a tiny twitch of his lips. “Yeah, you were.” Armie’s heart stutters when he sees Timmy’s smile inch wider, his eyes rolling back in teasing. “I guess I can understand. I’m sure Liz wasn’t super happy that you’d been spending so much time here, anyway.”

Armie knows this is a delicate topic, and the last thing he wants to do is create more friction between all of them. “She’s – it’s complicated. I know she doesn’t fully understand, but I meant what I said before, and whether she’s here or not, it doesn’t change anything. I’m still here for you as long as you’re recovering.”

Timmy gives him a skeptical look for a second before nodding, though clearly still not convinced. “Well you should probably go wrangle the kids before they start racing wheelchairs down the hallway. They really frown upon that here.”

The unexpected joke does wonders to clear the air between them, and he lets out a small laugh, watching Timmy’s face break out in an amused grin. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” After a second, his expression sobers again. “Are we ok?”

When Timmy locks eyes with him, a flutter goes through his stomach. “Yeah, we’re ok.” He lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, the warm glow of relief spreading through his entire body.

“Ok good.” He realizes he’s smiling like a lunatic and clears his throat, running a hand through his hair.

“I guess I’ll see you at some point, then.” The hint of defeat in Timmy’s voice cuts through him, and he hates himself for ever making Timmy doubt his commitment to be there for him.

Waiting until Timmy is looking directly at him, he makes it clear. “Tomorrow, definitely. And I’ll make sure Liz knows I’ll be staying longer. I think she just needs a couple days to settle in, get into a routine here, then she’ll be fine.”

The only response Timmy makes is a faint humming sound, obviously not convinced, but Armie figures he should leave it alone for now. Anything else he says now won’t really matter. But when he shows up tomorrow Timmy will know he means what he says.

He waits another beat just in case Timmy wants to say anything else, but when he stays silent, he figures he should go. “Ok, I’ll let you get back to your enticing looking lunch.” He eyes the mashed potatoes and green beans still on Timmy’s plate.

Timmy snorts and rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, nothing but gourmet food around here. I’ll see ya, Armie.”

Armie smiles back and gives a small wave before heading toward the door, feeling an ache in his stomach that he can’t quite explain as he steps out in the hall. Taking a second to collect himself, he tries to convince himself that things will be fine between him and Timmy, and that he and Liz can come to an agreement about how to handle Armie’s time at the hospital without starting yet another fight.

After collecting the kids, who are entertaining the entire nursing station, they all make their way back to the hotel and arrive just before noon to find Liz waiting for them with a full picnic basket spread. Armie’s surprised to find her in an understated sundress, hair swept up in a nice updo and subtle makeup that accentuates her natural beauty. 

He’s reminded of how she used to look when they first met, before she started feeding off of the attention and spotlight that came with being married to an actor and morphing into a person he barely recognized. They’d both changed so much since then, but looking at her now is like peering into a time capsule from his youth, remembering how things used to be before the kids and the bumps in his career and their marriage along with it.

“Wow, you look nice.” He doesn’t realize that he’s subconsciously bracing for a defensive reply until he feels the surprised relief that it never comes. She simply smiles warmly at him and grabs Harper’s hand when she moves over to stand by her. He lets out a long breath, not sure what’s going on with her today, but not wanting to jinx anything.

They make their way to Central Park and find a relatively quiet spot to sit and have their family picnic. The kids sit between him and Liz, and it takes him until about halfway through the sandwich that Liz made for him to realize that she keeps gazing over at him over the kids’ heads. When he notices, he turns his head to look more directly at her, and he sees a sort of quiet reflectiveness in her eyes. He wants to ask what’s going on, but figures now isn’t the time.

The rest of the afternoon is spent playing and walking through the park. Ford ends up catching a lizard and Harper helps another boy locate a lost baseball, and he and Liz are able to enjoy the day without any tension for the first time in he doesn’t know how long. When she slips her hand in his as they’re leaving the park to go back to the hotel, he feels the warm glow of nostalgia for a time he’d almost forgotten.

They stop to buy a few things so Armie can cook them a proper dinner instead of doing room service again. After they finish eating, the kids are ready to pass out after the long day. He and Liz tag team in getting both kids bathed and ready for bed, Ford ending up passing out the second his head hits the pillow. Harper wants him to read her a story, and for a few minutes, Liz stays by the doorway to watch them, but soon she gets a phone call and wanders out into the main room of the suite to talk.

By the time Harper falls asleep, Armie is pretty wiped himself. He carefully backs out of the kids’ room and pads across the suite, finding Liz still on the phone, laughing quietly over whatever the person on the other line said. Armie decides to get comfortable in bed, and he ends up reading a book he borrowed from Pauline for about half an hour before he, too, starts nodding off.

He gets undressed, though still leaving on his boxers. He’s come to find a strange sense of comfort in wearing them after so long now. Crawling into bed, he listens for any sign that Liz will be coming in soon, but he thinks he can still hear her voice faintly wafting in from the other room, clearly still on the phone. With a tired sigh, he turns off the light and tries to fall asleep.

It isn’t more than ten minutes later that the door opens and he hears the soft padding of feet moving into the room. “Arms, you awake?”

“Yeah.” He twists his head so he can see her, face obscured by shadow until she clicks on the small light on the desk.

There’s a second where he swears she wants to say something, but then she decides against it, visibly shaking off whatever it is and moving over to the dresser to remove her jewelry, he back turned to him. He settles back on his side the way he’d been before, and hopes she isn’t going to try and restart their conversation from the previous night.

“Today was really nice, wasn’t it?”

The question catches him off-guard, not sure she was going to speak at all. “Yeah, it was.”

There’s a beat of silence, and he thinks maybe that had been what she’d been struggling to say before. And the day _had_ been nice, that part was true. Nicer than any day he can remember in recent history. He’s about to close his eyes when she speaks again.

“It’s almost like…like we were… _us_ , again, you know?”

There’s a hesitancy in her voice that causes a pang in his chest. He wishes he could say he has no idea what she means, but it would be a lie. They hadn’t really been _them_ for a long time now, and there are days he thinks they’ll never get back to the place they once were. And then days like today happen and he wonders if maybe there’s still a chance.

“Yeah.”

It’s all he can manage to say in response, not knowing how to read her intentions behind the conversation like he once could. Somewhere along the way, they stopped being able to communicate effectively, and the result has been a lot of miscalculations of feelings which leads to fights. The last thing he wants to do is say something wrong now, after having a full day without any tension or awkwardness between them.

Liz is quiet for another minute before she pads over to his side of the bed, looking down at him with soft eyes. “I’ll be right back, just going to wash my face.”

He blinks up at her for a beat, not sure why the sudden shift in behavior but not wanting to say or do anything to cause it to stop. He nods, watching a small smile cross her face before she turns to go into the bathroom.

He’s almost asleep when the bathroom door opens again a few minutes later and he faintly hears the soft shuffling of her feet as she makes her way to the other side of the bed. The mattress dips behind him and there’s a bit of movement before she settles. Letting out a slow breath, he feels the tug of sleep around the edges of his mind.

But just before he can fully dip beneath the waves of unconsciousness, he feels the mattress shift behind him again, and a few seconds later, the feeling of Liz’s warm, solid body pressed up against his back. His eyes pop open but he stays silent, trying to keep his breathing as even as possible while every inch of him anticipates what’s coming next.

There’s a soft press of lips just below his hairline, causing a small shiver to run down his back, and one of Liz’s long arms snakes around to press against his front, staying still for a few seconds before beginning to slowly move up and down from his sternum to his belly and back. A pool of warmth begins to gather in his stomach, a once-familiar feeling but one that had become so foreign in recent months, he’s entirely unprepared for how to handle it in this moment. The lips slide from the back of his neck to suck gently on his earlobe just as the hand inches downward, growing bolder as it slips under the waistband of his boxers.

A jolt runs through him then, the sudden and overwhelming feeling of _wrong_ shooting through every inch of his body. He doesn’t know why his body is reacting this way to his own wife, but he’s suddenly very sure that he can’t go through with what she’s clearly trying to initiate. Just before her hand slides low enough to wrap around his length, he reaches his own hand down and grabs hers, pulling them both out of his boxers and away from his body.

He can hear a sound like a broken whimper behind him, but all he can focus on is his own breathing, trying not to hyperventilate as waves of emotions crash over him. He sits up suddenly, her hand falling way from his as he plants his feet firmly on the floor, trying to find any way to ground himself as he feels like he’s spinning out of control. There’s a shaky inhale of breath behind him, and suddenly he can’t be there anymore, can’t handle trying to deal with Liz’s emotions on top of his own. He slams his eyes shut for a few seconds and takes a deep breath before letting it out again. 

“I’m sorry – I don’t know – I can’t…can’t do this right now.” He waits a beat, but when there’s no response, just the same deafening silence that has become all too familiar between them, he lets out a quiet sigh. “I’m gonna take a shower.” He can’t bring himself to look back at her when he pushes off the bed and crosses over to the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a quiet ‘click’.

Leaning his head against the door, he takes several deep breaths, trying to figure out why the thought of being intimate with his wife is filling him with a sense of panic and dread. After a few seconds, he can just barely make out the sound of soft sobs on the other side of the door, and his heart all but shatters. He has no idea how they got here, or why he can’t seem to allow himself to fall back into a time when things were good between them, even just for one night.

When the sound of Liz’s cries become too much, he removes his boxers and steps into the shower, turning the temperature as hot as it will go, needing the feel of the scalding water to shock him out of whatever state he’s currently found himself in. He sticks his head directly under the spray, allowing the water to cascade down his body and soak every inch of his skin on the way down. The sound of the water rushing into his ears manages to successfully drown out any noise coming from the bedroom, and he stands there for long minutes, just trying to get control of his breathing.

His skin is already starting to turn wrinkly by the time he manages to feel like he isn’t about to have a panic attack, and he slowly lifts his head and searches for soap to wash himself with. He focuses all of his thought and energy into rubbing the soap over every nook and crevice of his body, trying to be as thorough as possible to give him an extra few minutes before having to go back out and face the situation he ran way from like a coward. 

When he reaches his cock, he cleans it thoroughly, giving it a couple lazy tugs as he rubs the soap over the sensitive skin of his groin. A thought occurs to him then, that he, same as Timmy, hasn’t jerked off since he’s been in New York. Between the panic of the first few days and then not feeling comfortable getting off in Timmy’s childhood home, he hasn’t really had a good opportunity. And as he’s realizing just now, he hasn’t even really had the desire to, either.

He wonders briefly if maybe there’s something off with his libido, having always had a healthy sex drive up until now. And even when he and Liz stopped having sex, he still would rub one out every couple of days, if not more. It seems crazy that it’s been weeks now since he’s come, and the thought floats through his mind that maybe that’s why he freaked out at Liz’s touch. Maybe he just needs to kickstart his dick again, remind it what it’s missing, and then he can resume his normal sex life.

Reaching down again, he wraps his fingers around himself in a loose fist, stroking himself slowly until he starts to harden in his grip. He can feel the blood rushing downward as it steadily fills out his cock, and within a couple minutes, he’s fully hard. He tightens his fist and pumps a few times in earnest, trying to conjure up images of Liz that might spur him on. But try as he might, every time he tries to imagine her, or them together, in any kind of intimate way, his hand falters and he loses momentum.

He decides to switch gears, allowing his mind to branch out into other areas of sexual fantasy instead of focusing on just Liz. That seems to work for a bit, dick leaking a bit of precome as he starts to find a groove and get more turned on. A bunch of images flit through his brain as his hand picks up speed, never stopping long enough to focus on any of them for more than a few seconds.

He moves his other hand up his slick body and pinches his nipples, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to stifle a moan that threatens to break loose from his throat. He’s so close, hand working himself harder and faster as he races toward sweet relief.

And just before he reaches the point of no return, breath coming in short, harsh pants and the tingle in his balls signaling his impending orgasm at any second, another image flashes through his mind, this one accompanied by the vivid memory of soft, breathy moans coming from the person whose face is now clear as day behind his eyelids. It’s Timmy, eyes closed in ecstasy, the sound of his undeniable pleasure ringing out in Armie’s ears just as he tips over the edge.

The first splash of his release hits the wall of the shower, sliding down slowly until it mixes with the water on the shower floor. Several more ropes of thick white erupt from his cock, flying over his hand and landing in the shallow puddle of water around his feet. He can’t hold back a soft grunt as the last few drops of come spurt out of his dick, knees almost giving out and catching himself on the wall of the shower just before he comes crashing down.

He leans heavily onto the wall for support, panting and trying to regain his full vision after the edges had gone fuzzy during the height of his orgasm. When he’s finally able to catch his breath, he pushes himself off the wall to stand up straight again. His mind is a complete jumble, scrambling to understand what just happened, and why it was _Timmy’s_ face he saw just before he came.

Swallowing hard around the large lump in his throat, Armie moves his still come-covered hand under the spray of the shower, the water now barely lukewarm, to rinse away the evidence of his pleasure. He stares blankly, unable to make sense of any of the events from the last hour, feeling a strange sense of detachment about it all, like it isn’t even his own life, but someone else’s entirely. But as he watches the last bit of his come swirl down the drain, he knows one thing for sure : he is well and truly fucked.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I know you all must be shocked to get another update so soon, but I was inspired this week, so I thought I'd give you a surprise on this Independence Day (or random Saturday, for all the non-Americans). :D
> 
> And as a technical point of note, this chapter spans approx. 2 1/2 weeks. I don't want to belabor every step of Timmy's physical recovery because ultimately the story is told from Armie's POV and is more focused on the emotional elements between him and Timmy, so I'm kinda moving things along a bit in that regard while still having it be an important part of the overall story. And for reference, because I know my timeline as it's written in the chapters has been kinda vague, after the events of this chapter, we are approximately 6 weeks out from Timmy's accident.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the amazing love this story has gotten. The comments, kudos, and other messaged I've received are so, SO appreciated. I've been awful about replying to comments but I will try to be better because you all are wonderful and I want you to know how much your kind and encouraging words mean to me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. <333
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter!

By the time Armie comes out of the bathroom after finishing his shower, Liz is already asleep, turned with her back to him and curled in on herself. He can hear the congested rasp in her breathing which signals she’d been crying, which he’d already heard for himself but the reminder of it after what he’d just done makes his stomach lurch. He climbs in the bed, desperate to cross the gap between them, but he doesn’t know how. It takes another couple of hours of trying and failing to find some kind of answer to all the questions his mind keeps plying him with before he finally falls into a fitful slumber.

When he wakes the following morning, he finds himself alone in the bed, and the instant grip of dread takes hold of him. It takes him a minute to find the note Liz had left saying she was getting coffee from the place on the corner of the block. He swallows down the reflex of irritation at the idea that the coffee that the hotel supplies isn’t good enough and instead tries to figure out how he’s going to explain what happened the night before when she returns.

It ends up that his worrying is all in vain, as she sweeps through the door about 15 minutes later with a big smile on her face as she talks into her phone. “Yeah, no problem. Right. I think they’ll love it.”

She hands Armie one of the two cups of coffee she’s carrying as she walks past him, only meeting his eyes briefly before continuing her conversation and moving over to sit on the couch. From the sound of it, she’s on the phone with someone in Dallas about the bakeries, and he doesn’t want to interrupt, but he’s also not at all sure how to react to her apparently pleasant mood after the events of last night.

He takes a sip of the coffee and moves to look out the giant floor length window of the hotel room that has a nice view of the city. Liz hangs up the call a couple minutes later, and he takes a deep breath, ready to just get it over with. But she beats him to it.

“We’re gonna need to go over the budget for the bakery. I think we might be paying too much for paper products and Elijah thinks he can get us a better deal with another supplier.”

Armie takes a minute to wrap his head around the topic at hand, not really interested in budgets or paper products this early in the morning. “Uh, ok sure. Yeah. We’ll find some time to go over that soon.”

“Great.” She gives him her ‘I knew you’d see it my way’ smile and starts to move off the couch, looking in the direction of the kids’ bedroom.

Before she can get too far, he puts a hand on her arm. “Wait, before we wake them, don’t you want to talk about what happened last night?”

He can feel her stiffen underneath his touch, but her smile stays fixed on her face. “Nothing to talk about. You weren’t in the mood, I get it. Not like it’s the first time.”

Her answer catches him so off-guard that he can’t come up with a proper response before she pulls out of his grip and continues toward the bedroom. When she returns, she has Ford half-asleep on her shoulder and Harper trailing out behind her, which effectively cuts off any more possibility of discussing the subject further.

The next week goes by without much fuss. Things between him and Liz ease back into what’s been their relative normal for the past several months, existing together in the same space but never quite connecting on the same level. They manage to avoid any more fights, which is a welcome change, but it’s replaced by a tired exasperation of two people who no longer remember how to function as a unit. It’s as if they are speaking two different languages and neither one has a way to translate the other. She doesn’t try to initiate sex again, and neither of them attempt to broach the topic again.

They manage to come to an arrangement for Armie to go visit Timmy for a couple hours in the mornings, and he advocates for bringing the kids every couple of days, both for their sakes and Timmy’s. Liz reluctantly agrees, but she makes sure to keep them all plenty busy the rest of the time with a myriad of activities. Museum trips and various sightseeing and shopping expeditions – it’s as if she wants to pack everything there is to see in Manhattan into the few weeks they would be there. But he figures it’s best not to make a big deal out of it, not wanting to disrupt the makeshift truce they seem to have come to. 

The timing of Armie’s visits to the hospital often coincide with the times Nicole and Mark are there, and Pauline is around sometimes as well. On one hand, he’s always happy to see them and spend time with them, especially now that he isn’t staying at their apartment anymore and doesn’t have the luxury of seeing them outside of their time at the hospital. But on the other hand, it does greatly reduce the amount of time he has to spend with Timmy alone, and he can’t help but think that it had been Liz’s intention for it to be that way. But he does his best to not let it ruin the time he does manage to have with Timmy.

Things between them seem relatively normal, but Armie can’t shake the feeling that something is off, and it’s unnerving. Timmy doesn’t say anything to indicate there’s anything wrong, and he mostly acts the same as he has been, but there’s this distinct sense of hesitancy that Armie picks up on a couple days after Liz’s arrival, and he isn’t sure where it’s coming from or what to do about it.

It doesn’t help that Armie is still confused about everything that happened between jerking Timmy off and then having the image of that act spring to mind when he was getting himself off. He tries to convince himself that it was just because it had been a recent sexual encounter that had been fresh in his mind, and that it wasn’t specifically about Timmy, but there’s a tiny piece of lingering doubt in the back of his mind that he does his best to ignore, not wanting to dig too far into it for fear of finding something he isn’t ready to deal with.

Instead, he focuses on trying to be there for Timmy as his friend, which is what he knows Timmy needs right now. He laughs at Timmy’s dumb jokes and listens patiently when he vents his frustration about the situation he’s in. He can see Timmy growing more impatient the longer he has to stay in the hospital, restless to get back to his life, to acting.

Luckily, the cast on Timmy’s right arm and the boot on his left foot are finally removed within days of each other, which goes a long way to brighten Timmy’s overall mood. The right leg, having sustained multiple fractures in the fall, still isn’t fully healed, but the latest scans show the much improvement, so the doctor thinks it won’t be much longer before that cast is removed as well. 

And with the majority of his major injuries healed, Timmy begins the slow process of physical therapy to regain strength in his muscles that haven’t been used for weeks. Armie remembers his own similar experience when he tore his pectoral muscle just before they started promo for Call Me By Your Name, and he’s glad for the chance to feel a bit more useful by imparting some of the tips he learned through the process onto Timmy as he works to get his body back into good working order.

After spending a week focusing on building strength in both arms, lifting items with increasing mass and weight, and practicing gripping things for increasing lengths of time, the physical therapist working with Timmy clears him to begin trying to stand and walk on his one good leg with the use of a set of parallel bars that they set up in his room. The physical therapist works with him for a couple of hours a day, but encourages Timmy to do more if he feels up for it.

Armie usually arrives to the hospital just in time to catch the last few minutes of Timmy’s therapy session, and he finds it fascinating and exciting to see the progress Timmy makes day by day. At first, Timmy can barely put weight on his newly healed foot for more than a minute, but by the end of the week, he’s standing for much longer and can even shuffle forward a couple steps, using his arms to support him on the bars. The sense of pride he feels when he sees Timmy’s triumphant smile is overwhelming.

One night, after Armie gets Liz to agree to him returning to the hospital after the kids are down because her activity of choice for the day had resulted in his morning visit being cut short, he walks into Timmy’s room to find Timmy sitting in his wheelchair in front of the parallel bars with an unreadable look on his face.

“What’s going on, T?”

Timmy looks up, an expression of surprise on his face, obviously not expecting to see Armie again that day. But after a few seconds, his expression quickly flickers through relief and happiness to see him before finally settling back into weariness. “I hate how long this is taking. Feels like I’ll never be back to normal at this rate.”

Armie’s a bit taken back by the sudden defeatist tone in Timmy’s voice; when he’d left that morning everything seemed to be fine as far as he could tell. But then, patience has never been Timmy’s strong suit, always hungry to tackle the next thing after barely completing the one he’s working on, always bigger and better than the last. And Armie can understand why, after not being able to do anything but lie in a hospital bed for weeks, he would want to move the therapy process along faster so he can get back to his normal life.

He lets out a long breath and moves more fully into the room. “I get it, man. I do. But it’s not gonna be like this forever. Just keep working at it, and before you know it you’ll be breakdancing in the middle of Times Square to the sound of thunderous applause.”

Timmy lets out an incredulous snort, looking down into his lap. “Yeah, right.” But Armie can see the corners of his mouth twitch up in a tiny grin, so he considers it a win. After a beat, Timmy lifts his head again and meets Armie’s eyes with his own, open and trusting. “Will you spot me?”

Armie’s stomach does a flip at the question, having been craving the chance to take a more active role in Timmy’s therapy but not wanting to overstep. “Yeah, of course!” He’s at Timmy’s side in a heartbeat, allowing him the space to pull himself up to grab onto the bars but staying close enough to catch him if he loses his balance. It takes a bit of effort, Timmy shuffling forward on the wheelchair enough so that he can maneuver himself into a standing position, but within a couple minutes, he’s got both hands firmly grasping the bars on either side of him and his one foot on the ground, holding himself up.

Armie moves with him, trying not to hover too close but feeling the weight of responsibility pressing against his ribcage. He’d never been the only one in the room when Timmy was doing this before, and the fear of messing up winds its way up his spine, taking root in the back of his skull.

For a long while, Timmy just stands still, trying to get used to the feeling of his full weight bearing down on one leg that is still weak from weeks of inactivity. But eventually Armie sees him grit his teeth and slide his arms further down the bars, preparing to try and take a step forward. He holds his breath as he watches Timmy shift his weight from his leg to his arms, supporting himself on the bars. Timmy’s just about to slide his foot forward when Armie notices that his arms are trembling, and he suddenly becomes panicked.

“Ok ok, I think that’s enough for today. You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep going.” Stepping in close behind Timmy, he wraps one arm around Timmy’s waist and the other curled under Timmy’s left knee and waits for Timmy to release the bars. Timmy resists for a beat, clearly not wanting to give up yet, but then Armie feels him release a long exhale a second before his full weight settles into Armie’s waiting arms. Armie carefully lifts him up and moves out of the way of the bars, forgoing the wheelchair entirely and just carrying him over to the bed and gently depositing Timmy in the middle.

After helping Timmy get settled back into a comfortable position and arranging the blankets so he won’t get cold, Armie steps back, trying to get his nerves to settle now that he knows Timmy is safe. He looks down and sees Timmy’s eyes downcast, bottom lip trapped beneath his teeth.

“Sorry.”

There’s an ache in Armie’s chest at the sound of Timmy’s voice, so small and melancholy. “You don’t need to apologize, Tim. It’s what I’m here for.” He sighs quietly, running a hand through his hair before taking a seat in the chair beside the bed. “Look at me.” He waits until Timmy finally raises his eyes to meet his. “I know this is frustrating for you. And I know you wish you could just skip over this part and go back to normal. But your body still needs time to adjust and build up strength. You can’t just force it, as much as you want to. You gotta let yourself off the hook a little, ok?”

Timmy holds his gaze for a long minute, searching for something, though Armie isn’t sure exactly what. He must find it, because eventually his eyes soften and he nods, the look of acceptance crossing over his face. “Ok.” He waits a beat, then adds with a rueful smile, “I hate it when you’re right.”

A chuckle bubbles up from Armie’s throat and the tension melts away from his muscles. “Yeah, I know. I’m annoying like that.” Timmy gives a matching chuckle and rolls his eyes. “But hey, it’s not all bad, right? I mean, you get to watch tv all day, sleep as much as you want, I know the food isn’t stellar but at least it’s free, you get to see your family every day, and –“

“You.”

Armie pauses, caught off guard by Timmy’s inclusion of himself in the list of reasons this situation isn’t so bad. Something unspools in his gut, tendrils of warmth spinning out in all directions. Once his shock wears off, the corners of his lips twist up in a fond smile. “Yeah. Me. Always.”

Something in Timmy’s eyes shifts, and though Armie doesn’t know exactly what to call it, he can somehow feel it, too. And when Timmy reaches out his hand on the bed, palm up, Armie doesn’t hesitate to cover it with his own, holding on tightly.

Something passes between them in that moment, a current of electricity moving from one to the other and back again, making every cell in Armie’s body buzz from the intensity of it. He can feel the steady pulse of Timmy’s heartbeat through his palm, miraculously synching up with his own so that eventually he loses track of which one is Timmy’s and which one is his.

He knows Timmy can sense it, too, sees the way he swallows thickly and licks his lips, like he’s trying to find words to explain this _thing_ that’s happening but can’t. And he knows the feeling. It’s as if his brain switched offline and all that’s left is this feeling that is like nothing he’s ever known before, something new and a little terrifying, but something he knows he doesn’t want to end just yet.

There’s the feeling of Timmy’s hand tightening ever-so-slightly in his, and then Timmy’s lips part on an exhale. “Armie –”

But before he can say anything else, the door swings open and Quinn walks in with a cheerful expression on her face. “How’re we d – oh, Armie! It’s good to see you! Been a while since you’ve been around during my shift.” Her smile gets wider and she comes further into the room.

Armie just blinks dumbly for a few seconds, mind still in a bit of a haze from whatever _that_ was that just happened with him and Timmy, and he tries to focus on the new person in the room without stuttering like an idiot. “Hey, it’s great to see you, too, Quinn. I’ve missed your smile. The daytime nurses are not nearly as pleasant as you.”

Quinn rolls her eyes but there’s a streak of crimson that colors both her cheeks as she pretends to hit his arm with a pair of rubber gloves. He almost forgets that he’s still holding Timmy’s hand until Timmy shifts on the bed and it slides out from under his grip, leaving behind a cold feeling of emptiness that he hadn’t anticipated.

He chats with Quinn a bit more while she does her nightly routine of checking Timmy’s vitals and making sure he has everything he needs. Armie can’t help but notice how quiet Timmy gets, only responding to Quinn’s questions with the fewest syllables possible and then remaining eerily silent for the rest of the time she’s in the room.

Once she leaves, Armie turns back to Timmy, taking a deep breath in preparation to try and figure out what’s going on. But Timmy speaks up before he has a chance.

“I guess you should probably be heading back. I’m sure Liz won’t be happy if you’re here for too long.”

He’s just about to open his mouth to protest, but then he notices Timmy’s fingers twisting around themselves and into the sheet beneath him, and he stops himself. As much as he wants to talk about this, to figure out what’s going on inside Timmy’s head and see if it can provide any clarity as to the mess currently happening in his own, he knows forcing the issue right now would be a terrible idea. He knows Timmy well enough to know that when he gets this worked up, he needs time to work through his emotions and sort them out in his head before he can properly verbalize them, otherwise all that will come out will be a jumble of nonsense that neither of them will be able to understand.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. She’s been pretty understanding so far, don’t want to jinx it now.”

Timmy manages to smile tightly at him, and Armie feels a pang in his chest, but knows he needs to leave it alone for now. “Right, of course.”

He hesitates a beat, still warring with the desire to stay, not really ready to leave Timmy’s company just yet. But when Timmy just stares blankly at him, he lets out a tired sigh. “Ok, I’ll see you in the morning, then. Hope you get some rest.”

Timmy just nods but stays quiet, and it takes everything in him to turn and walk out the door. He can see that Timmy is struggling and he wants nothing more than to find a way to fix it, but he honestly has no idea how. He stops by the nurses station to say goodbye to Quinn before he makes his way back to the hotel for the night.

When Armie tries to sleep later, he spends an hour tossing and turning, unable to find a comfortable position, before he finally gives up. He pours himself a glass of straight vodka and goes to stretch out on the couch. He desperately tries to shut his mind off, exhausted from the non-stop barrage of thoughts and questions that have been swirling around since he left the hospital. Thankfully the vodka helps dull his senses enough that he eventually falls asleep right there, empty glass still dangling from his hand.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Here we go with another chapter! This one is a bit on the shorter side (for me, at least, lol) because it's really a setup for what happens next chapter and beyond. Things are definitely starting to get messy and angsty now, and I will just warn you, next chapter is when shit finally starts to go down for real. But the events of this chapter play a major part in how that all plays out, so I hope you can enjoy this chapter as a part of laying the groundwork for the big stuff coming up.
> 
> And speaking of "coming up", I think I only have about maybe 3? chapters left. At most, 4, depending on how I break things up, but we are rapidly approaching the main climax of the story and things will be winding down soon. Just wanted to give you guys a heads up. But I hope you can enjoy the rest of what I have planned! :D
> 
> And as always, thank you soooo much for all the love for this story. The comments, kudos, messages and general excitement for this story has been amazing so far. Thank you all for your unending support. <333

It's another few days before he has a chance to spend time with Timmy alone again. His morning visits to the hospital get shorter and shorter as Liz finds new ways to keep them occupied during the day, and trying to get away in the evening proves to be impossible with the kids seeming to need more attention than ever. He can sense them starting to get restless to go home and back to their regular lives, but he isn’t ready to leave yet, especially with still so much between him and Timmy that he doesn’t understand.

On the fourth day in a row that Liz’s plans are set to cut his hours at the hospital short, he gets fed up. “You know what, you guys go. I’m gonna sit this one out. I need a break.”

He’s up and grabbing his wallet before Liz can do anything to stop him, in the middle of fixing Harper’s dress which Harper keeps trying to take off. She manages to catch up to him just before he walks out the door, though.

“What do you mean, you need a break? A break from what? Your family?!”

He lets out a slow breath, trying not to rise to the occasion and start the fight that he can feel is brewing. “No, not from my family. But from being dragged all over Manhattan. It’s exhausting, and I just need a day off from playing happy family when we both know that isn’t the case.”

The words seem to stun Liz, since she doesn’t immediately snap back at him. He waits a few seconds and when she still doesn’t say anything, he turns again to leave. He’s halfway through the doorway when he hears her voice call out.

“Where are you going?”

He knows this is a trap, well aware that she knows exactly where he’s going, she just wants to hear him say it. Blowing out a low sigh, he closes his eyes and leans his forehead against the door, trying like hell to keep his resolve.

“To the hospital, to see my friend. I’ll be back in time to have dinner with you guys.”

Without waiting for her to answer, he pushes himself off the door and walks the rest of the way through, refusing to look back as he hears the soft click of the door shutting behind him.

In the cab ride over to the hospital, he switches his phone into airplane mode to avoid seeing the barrage of texts he knows will be incoming throughout the day. He isn’t in the mood to deal with it. After paying the driver and stepping out onto the sidewalk, he feels lighter than he has in weeks.

He decides to take a quick detour to grab some croissants from the café on the corner before heading up to Timmy’s room. When he walks in, Timmy is just getting back into bed after his morning session with the physical therapist, breathing a bit heavy but there’s a smile on his face. The smile gets wider when he spots Armie, and Nicole, Marc, and Pauline all turn to greet him with their own matching smiles as well. When he holds up the bag of croissants, his eyes connect with Timmy’s for a brief second and he can see a look of fondness and appreciation that makes his chest tighten with emotion.

The next couple hours fly by, and as the Chalamets are getting ready to leave, Armie can see Timmy eyeing him curiously. He doesn’t say anything, though, so Armie just tries not to make a big deal of it as he says his goodbyes. He waits just long enough for the three of them to make it out of the room before the prickle of Timmy’s eyes boring into the back of his head finally gets the better of him. He turns back around to see Timmy still staring with an unreadable look on his face.

“Ok, _what_?”

It takes Timmy a few seconds to answer, like he’s considering the best way to word his response. “Don’t you…ya know, need to be going, too?”

Armie shouldn’t be surprised by the question, considering how often he’s had to duck out earlier than expected recently, but something about the almost resigned tone in Timmy’s voice is like a jab to the gut. One he knows he only has himself to blame for.

“Actually, I took the day off from all the crazy excursions around the city. So you’ve got me for the day, if you want me.”

Timmy’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and Armie tries not to let it sting that he’s so surprised by that. He can see that Timmy wants to ask, can see the internal debate playing out all over his face, so he decides to let him off the hook. “I was tired of our time getting cut short so I decided to take a day for myself. And Liz can just deal with it. I’m tired of her dictating every second of my day when the whole point is for me to be here for you.”

It feels good to let out some of the frustration that’s been building all week. Timmy’s face immediately softens, though he can see there’s a hint of concern coming in now where the confusion had been before. But the last thing he wants to do is spend his day complaining about his broken marriage, especially with Timmy, so he clears his throat and tries to shake the tension off. He takes his usual seat by the bed and hopes they can just change the topic to something happier.

Thankfully, Timmy is willing to accommodate him. “Well, I’m not about to complain about you being here for longer, whatever the reason.” Timmy’s smile sends a current of warmth from his head all the way to his toes, and he lets out a low breath as he returns it with one of his own.

“Thanks, T.”

There’s a few beats of silence before Timmy’s eyes perk up with an excited glow. “Hey, you wanna try another round of chess? I think I’m up to the challenge now.”

Armie narrows his eyes in mock skepticism, but his chest is fluttering with the same excitement he sees in Timmy’s eyes. “Oh yeah, you think so, huh?” When Timmy just smirks at him, he lets out a small chuckle. “Ok, you’re on.”

Once the board is set up, Armie is shocked to find that Timmy is, in fact, up to the challenge and actually plays a great game, much better than the last time they tried to play. Armie still ends up winning, but he’s more than impressed with Timmy’s strategic moves, and when Timmy asks for a rematch and actually manages to beat him, he can’t hide his genuine awe at how Timmy’s chess skills have improved so quickly.

As Timmy is right in the middle of enjoying his victory, Armie eyes him suspiciously. “Hold up, how did you suddenly become a chess whiz when the last time we played you could barely make it through 5 moves without getting bored?”

He watches as Timmy’s cheeks turn a nice shade of pink and he bites at his lower lip. “Just lucky, I guess?” When Armie narrows his eyes further at Timmy’s obvious lie, Timmy rolls his eyes and shrugs, his face turning even darker as his features take on a sheepish expression. “I uh…might have spent a few, ok _several_ , hours watching YouTube tutorials to try and get better so I could impress you.”

That is the last thing he’s expecting to hear, and he has no idea how to react to Timmy saying he was trying to _impress_ him. He attempts to open his mouth to say something, but all he can do is gape uselessly for a few seconds before closing it again.

“I know, it’s lame.”

Hearing Timmy’s self-deprecating response to his shock snaps him out of it. “No! No, it’s not lame. I’m just…surprised. That you would put in that much effort to try and learn. It’s ok if you aren’t into chess, it’s just a game.”

Timmy slowly brings his eyes up to meet his, and when their gazes lock, he can feel the beginnings of that same current flowing between them that happened a few nights back. “Well, I knew it was important to you, so I wanted to learn. I’m just glad I could finally put my skills to the test. Watching other people play isn’t the same as trying to do it yourself. At least now I know I’m not a total lost cause.” 

Timmy lets out a quiet huff and Armie has to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat. “You’re not a lost cause at all. You did really well. Consider me impressed.”

The way Timmy’s eyes light up, his smile beaming so brightly Armie almost has to look away, makes his stomach twist and flip in a way that he’s not prepared for. It occurs to him that this is something he really needs to talk to Timmy about, to try and figure out what’s happening between them, and even if Timmy is feeling the same way he is.

But he’s completely at a loss as to how to approach the subject. It isn’t something he even fully understands, so trying to describe it or examine it seems overwhelming. All he knows is that _something_ is happening, and it feels both amazing and terrifying at the same time. And he has absolutely no idea what to do about it.

Just as he’s preparing to attempt to ask Timmy about it, Timmy clears his throat. “Hey so, I kinda want to get in a bit more physical therapy practice before I run out of energy. You think you can help me out?”

The sudden shift is a bit jarring, but he recovers quickly, scratching at his stubble for a second before answering. “Yeah, of course, man. Let’s do it.”

That beaming smile hits him again and he temporarily forgets what he’s supposed to be doing until Timmy starts making his way off the bed and into the wheelchair on the opposite side of the bed. That spurs him into action, moving around the bed to help guide Timmy into the wheelchair, and then once he’s settled, pushes him across the room to where the parallel bars are set up.

Once they reach the bars, Armie moves out from behind the wheelchair and stands a bit off to the side so that he can be right there if Timmy needs him. But this time, Timmy barely even struggles to get out of the chair and standing upright, and Armie amazed to see the progress he’s made in just a few days’ time.

Once he starts to move, Armie stays close, ready to catch or support Timmy at any second, but it turns out his presence is almost wholly unnecessary. Not only does Timmy manage to shuffle-walk the whole length of the bars and back, but he only wobbles once, his foot catching underneath him as he makes to turn around. Armie is there instantly, an arm around Timmy’s waist for support until he’s able to regain his balance and continue on without help. 

But Armie is struck by how fast his progress seems to be coming along, and there’s an unexpected pang in his chest when he realizes that Timmy may be able to return home soon, and his presence there, as well as with Timmy, won’t be needed anymore. The thought makes it suddenly hard to breathe, and if it isn’t for Timmy grabbing onto his arm as he lowers himself back into the wheelchair and effectively distracting him, he may have started hyperventilating.

Luckily he’s able to pull himself together enough to get Timmy situated back in the bed again, and they decide to watch a bit of tv until Timmy starts to nod off in the late afternoon. Knowing he promised Liz he’d be back by dinner time, he figures he should get going, even though he has no real desire to be anywhere but right there, watching Timmy sleep. It hits him that he should find that thought strange, but he doesn’t, and he’s not sure what that means but he isn’t in the mood to question it.

He says goodbye to Timmy just as Timmy is almost fully unconscious, a sleepy half-smile on his face as he returns his own farewell. Closing the door behind him, he remembers that his phone has been in airplane mode all day and there are probably dozens of texts and missed calls he now has to deal with. 

He makes his way out to hail a cab before he summons the courage to turn it back on, but to his astonishment, there’s only one text that comes though. It’s from Liz, but all it says is a simple, _< Dinner at 6>_. He stares down at his phone in disbelief, wondering if the connection is bad and the other texts just haven’t come through yet, but as the driver rolls on toward their hotel, nothing else pops up on his screen.

Looking at the time, it’s only 20 minutes to 6 now, so he’s glad he’ll arrive back at the hotel in plenty of time, though he has no idea what to expect when he gets there. As he rides the elevator up to their suite, he takes several deep breaths, trying to remain calm for whatever he’s about to walk into.

But when he opens the door to the suite, the absolute last thing he expects to see is Liz in their small kitchenette, cooking a full meal, and the kids sitting quietly at the table and coloring. He feels like he’s entered the twilight zone, and he has to double check that he’s in the right room. It isn’t that unusual for Liz to cook sometimes, but it’s normally a much more chaotic scene than he’s looking at right now.

When she sees him come into the room further, she looks up and gives him a slight smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes and he instinctively knows she’s upset. But with the kids so close, he also knows they can’t get into it yet.

Liz finishes preparing the meal shortly after his arrival, and they all sit together to eat. The kids are talking a mile a minute about everything Armie missed during their daily adventure, but he can’t help but notice how Liz remains silent almost the entire time, only chiming in when Harper can’t remember the name of the theater they visited and when Ford starts talking about how he played with balls and Liz has to explain that it was part of an interactive museum with a huge ball pit.

Once the meal is over and things are cleaned up, Liz instructs Harper and Ford to start getting ready for bed. As soon as they are out of earshot, she turns to him, a blank expression on her face.

“I’m going out.”

The statement takes him by complete surprise, and it takes him several seconds to process what she said and formulate a response. “Wait, what? Now?”

Her face remains emotionless, her tone eerily calm. “Yes, now.”

Sensing that something is not right, he drops the towel he’s currently using to dry the glass he’d used at dinner and moves to be directly in front of her. “What’s going on?”

Up until that point, she hasn’t met his eyes, but she does now, her eyes taking on a slightly sharper look as their gazes lock, although she’s still much more subdued than usual, and Armie can’t help but feel unnerved by the entire thing.

“You got to take a break earlier, now it’s my turn. I can’t do everything here, Arms.”

As much as he wants to, he knows he can’t argue with her, knows that it isn’t fair to expect her to shoulder so much of this by herself. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, though, so he simply nods, and as soon as he does, she drops her gaze from his and walks past him toward the door, only stopping long enough to grab her purse and murmur over her shoulder that Ford had requested a particular book for tonight.

And then she’s gone, without any other explanation or context for what’s going through her head. He knows there will be a fight at some point, but right now, all he can worry about is getting the kids to sleep. The rest will have to wait.

Luckily both kids are cooperative for once and Armie manages to get them bathed and dressed for bed without much fuss. He digs out the book Ford requested and even lets Ford try to read a bit of it himself. He manages to get most of the first page and part of the second before he gives up and makes Armie finish the rest, which Armie is happy to do.

Once the kids are asleep, Armie pours himself a drink, bourbon, and stretches out on the couch, trying to go over the day in his head and find a way to understand how everything managed to become so complicated, and what it all means. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get very far, not having certain crucial pieces of information that are needed to help him see the full picture of everything that’s happened since Timmy’s accident. He can’t deny the shift he’s felt with both Timmy and Liz since he’s been here, but he isn’t able wrap his head around the exact nature of it or how to proceed going forward with either of them.

By the time Liz returns, it’s after 11 pm and Armie has just finished his second drink, deciding against having a third. He turns around to see her moving into the room slowly, her expression neutral, seeming to not have even noticed him sitting there.

“Hey, you’re back. I was starting to get worried.”

She pauses, turning her head to look over at him and gives the tiniest smile. “I’m fine. Just tired. I’m gonna head to bed.”

She starts to move away again toward the bedroom, and suddenly Armie is seized with a real fear that something is seriously wrong. “Wait, what’s going on? You’re kinda scaring me. Is everything ok?”

She stops again, waiting a beat before turning back to look at him. For a moment, neither of them say anything. But then finally, she moves toward him slowly, and he can see a quiet sadness behind her eyes that makes his heart ache to try and fix, only he realizes he has no idea _how_. And the knowledge that he doesn’t, when at one time he would instantly know what to do to put a smile on her face, breaks something in him.

When she finally reaches him, she presses one hand to his chest and leans in, placing a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth before pulling back again. “Night, Armie.”

He’s too stunned to say anything in return, his brain a jumble of emotions and questions that he isn’t able to make any sense of. All he can do is silently watch her retreat to the bedroom, hearing the soft click of the door closing behind her.

It takes him another hour before he can summon the courage to follow her, and when he does, she’s already sound asleep, the gentle sounds of her even breaths filling the dark space as he climbs into the bed beside her and wills himself not to cry for all that it seems he’s lost and doesn’t know how to get back, or even if it’s possible to get them back at all.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope your week is going well! :)
> 
> Soooo, shit is about to get REAL, lol. This chapter and the next are jam-packed with angst, just a warning. But this is kinda what we've been building toward for the whole story, so buckle up, because it's gonna get bumpy! I think after this, there will be 3 chapters remaining, but I'm gonna wait to officially update the chapter count until I'm 100% positive. But we are getting close to the end, sadly. This has been an amazing journey so far, and I hope you enjoy the rest of what I have in store!
> 
> I cannot thank you all enough for the tremendous amount of love this fic has received. The lovely comments and messages I've gotten are so, so appreciated, you really have no idea how much each one means to me. Thank you for being so encouraging and supportive. You all are wonderful and I'm eternally grateful for all the love. <333
> 
> Enjoy! (And feel free to scream at me in the comments)

The first thing Armie is aware of when he wakes the next morning is a solid weight on his chest, making it rather difficult to breathe. Squinting his eyes open, he discovers Ford laying on top of him, peering down at him with wide eyes.

“Hey, kiddo. Whatcha doing?” His voice is raspy from sleep, mouth bone dry, and he feels like he could sleep for another week.

“Why are you still sleeping, Daddy? It’s wake up time.”

Armie blinks at his son for a few seconds, trying to focus on the words he’s saying. Once they register, he slowly angles his head to look at the clock on the table next to the bed, and he sees the numbers 8:47 staring back at him. He blinks again, thinking that can’t possibly be the right time, since it’s usually a miracle to get the kids to sleep past 7:00 most mornings. But after fumbling to grab his phone to verify, it turns out to be correct. He shifts his gaze back to his son, who is still just staring at him quietly.

“You’re right, definitely time to get up. Where’s your sister?”

Ford curls his little fist into the blanket still covering Armie’s chest. “Playing with her dolls. She said it’s time for brefast.”

Armie can’t stop the smile that breaks out on his face at his son’s mispronunciation of “breakfast”, knowing these are the things he’ll miss the most when the kids are older.

“She’s right, too. I’m sure you both are pretty hungry.”

At Ford’s eager nod, he smiles and turns his head to look over at Liz, who hasn’t stirred at all. He instinctively drops his voice lower in order to keep from disturbing her. “Ok, let’s go get something started then.”

Ford nods again, and Armie grips him tightly to his chest as he pushes himself into a sitting position. After he’s out of bed, he puts Ford down and instructs him to go get Harper and meet him in the kitchen. Slipping on a pair of sweats and an undershirt, he glances back over to the bed, but Liz hasn’t moved an inch, giving no indication that she’s awake.

There’s a knot in his stomach that he tries to ignore, instead focusing on the task of feeding his kids before they start a full on revolt. He’s pretty astonished they lasted this long already, if he’s honest.

Once breakfast is ready, with the help of Harper and Ford, he gets them set up at the table with their plates and tells them to go ahead and start. They happily dig in, and he excuses himself for a minute. He pushes the door to the bedroom open quietly, trying not to startle Liz, but he finds her still in the same position he left her, and the knot in his stomach doubles in size. It’s incredibly rare that she sleeps this late, and when she does, it’s usually from being up until 3 am drinking with her girl friends, which he knows isn’t the case this time.

“Liz?” When there’s no movement, he tries again. “Baby?”

The endearment feels hollow to his own ears, a bit of a sour aftertaste left on his tongue after it slips out, an old habit that he hasn’t bothered to break, even though the emotion behind it hasn’t been there for quite a while now.

But still, it has the desired effect, as Liz finally stirs, twisting her upper body just enough so that he can see her face, which is weirdly emotionless. She doesn’t make any sound, though, and he isn’t sure what to make of it.

“I made breakfast. The kids are already eating, but I didn’t want you to miss out.”

For a minute there’s no answer, and her silence is so unnerving, he thinks he’d rather she yell at him than whatever this is. Finally, she rolls back onto her side facing away from him, and he thinks maybe she’s just going to ignore him completely. But then the sound of her voice wafts across the room, tone flat and listless.

“I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Armie waits to see if maybe she’ll say something else, but when nothing comes, he says a quick, “Ok,” and backs out of the room, giving her whatever time she needs.

He’s halfway through his own meal when she finally emerges from the bedroom, hair left down instead of up in her usual ponytail, and completely free of her usual makeup. It takes him by surprise, not used to seeing her look so natural. She wordlessly grabs a mug and pours herself some of the coffee Armie had made – which is also shocking, since she usually can’t stand it – and makes her way to join them at the table.

There’s an awkward moment when she first sits down and Ford asks if she’s sick because he’s not used to seeing her without makeup, but she just gives him a tight smile and assures him she’s fine, eyes flicking over to meet Armie’s for the briefest of seconds before casting them down toward her plate. Armie isn’t sure what to say, so he doesn’t say anything, just continues to finish his omelet while Liz begins to eat hers, not looking particularly interested in it but eating without complaint.

When Armie is done eating, he can sense the kids are starting to get restless, having already finished their meals a few minutes ago and ready to be let loose. Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he clears his throat.

“So what’s on the agenda for today?”

There’s a beat where Liz says nothing, just continues to cut her next bite of food. Just before she raises her fork to her mouth, she answers. “No plans today.”

The words don’t make sense at first, and he has to repeat them in his head several times before he trusts that he heard her right. “Wait, really? No museums or parks or cruises around Manhattan?”

It comes out slightly more incredulous than he intended, and he can see the way she stiffens at his words, stung by the insinuation that he wasn’t happy with how she’d been keeping them so busy for these past weeks. She swallows the bite of food she had been chewing and answers without looking up at him. “Nope.”

At this point, he knows there’s something very wrong, but he’s suddenly reminded of the kids’ presence when Harper begins to kick at the legs of her chair impatiently. “Hey guys, why don’t you go play for a few minutes while we finish up here? We’ll be right there.”

Harper gives him a look that he knows means she can tell something is going on, but she also knows she isn’t supposed to ask about it. There’s a tightness in his chest when she grabs Ford’s hand and leads him away from the table and back toward their bedroom, hating that they can sense the tension between him and Liz but not knowing how to fix it right now.

Once the kids are safely out of earshot, he turns back to Liz, who is still eating silently, eyes trained on her food. Lowering his voice just in case, he leans forward on the table a bit in her direction. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you feeling ok?”

For a second, she continues as if she isn’t going to answer, but then she pauses, putting her fork down and taking a deep breath, reluctantly meeting his eyes. “It’s nothing, I’m just exhausted. I guess all the days of running around the city have finally caught up to me. So you can do what you want today. I figured you’d be happy.”

Her tone isn’t angry or tinged with accusation like he would expect, but rather has an air of quiet resignation that’s somehow even more unsettling. He has no idea how to respond, completely lost as to what’s really going on since it’s clear there’s more to it than just being run down from her various excursions. But the last thing he wants to do is to force the issue and spark a fight, so he simply nods and gives a quiet, “Ok,” watching helplessly as she goes back to finishing the last few bites of her breakfast.

Once the food is cleared and things are put away, Harper comes back out and asks if they can watch a movie. Liz agrees without hesitation, telling her to pick out whatever she wants as she moves to get settled on the couch. When Harper chooses Moana for the third time that week, he expects Liz to protest, but she doesn’t say anything when Harper pops the disc in the player and crawls onto her lap as the movie starts to play.

Armie is just about to join them when his phone buzzes, and when he looks at the screen, he sees it’s his agent calling him. He’s been avoiding his calls for weeks, just replying with vague texts about when he’d be back to LA. He figures he shouldn’t put off the conversation any longer, even though he still has no idea what to tell him really. Timmy is almost fully recovered but Armie hasn’t allowed himself to set a definitive time for when they would head back yet, wanting to keep it open for now.

He steps into the bedroom to take the call, trying not to flinch at the less than cordial tone he’s greeted with when he picks up. Apparently disappearing for weeks without giving his agent even a heads up isn’t the best way to continue getting the kinds of quality roles he’s after. After apologizing profusely and explaining the situation, he receives some good news about a script his agent thinks he’d be perfect for. Without making any concrete promises on when exactly he’d be back, Armie thanks him and tries not to let the sudden pang in his chest at the idea of returning to his regular life on the other side of the country echo in his voice as he finishes the call.

When he comes back into the living area, he finds Ford laying sideways on the couch, head on Liz’s knee while Harper sits on the other side of her, leaving no real room for him to sit without disrupting them. So he opts for the single armchair perpendicular to the couch and once he gets settled, proceeds to zone out until the end of the movie.

As the credits begin to roll, Armie gets up to use the bathroom. When he returns, he hears Harper asking to watch another one, which Liz readily agrees to. Armie fidgets with the hem of his shirt, working up the nerve to excuse himself so he can head to the hospital before he gets sucked into another movie. It’s past noon already, and if there’s no other plans he needs to stick around for, he wants to make the best use of his time with Timmy.

Just as Harper settles back against Liz’s side, Liz’s arm coming around to hold her waist and tuck her in close next to her, Armie rounds the corner of the couch and clears his throat.

“So uh, listen. I was thinking I might head to the hospital for a bit. If you don’t need me for anything here.”

He’s careful to leave it open-ended, knowing that after his storm out yesterday and the resulting…whatever is going on with Liz now, making any declarative statements involving the hospital or Timmy were probably not a good idea. He holds his breath as she turns to look at him, expecting some kind of reaction or argument, but all she does is give a short nod before turning back to the tv.

“Fine, do what you want.”

A million warning bells go off in his head, sensing this is a trap. And yet, it’s one he’s helpless but to fall into, knowing there are no good alternatives here. He isn’t about to stop seeing Timmy or feel guilty for wanting to, so he lets out the breath he was holding slowly and tries to keep his voice steady when he replies.

“I won’t be as long as yesterday.”

The only response is a hum, and he’s about to turn to go when Ford perks up.

“Timmy’s at the hospital! I wanna see Timmy!”

He’s just about to offer to bring the kids with him, maybe give Liz a bit more time to herself to rest, when he notices her back stiffen and her grip around Harper’s waist tighten. 

“Uh, maybe next time, buddy. I promise you’ll see him again real soon, though. He loves it when you come hang out.”

Watching helplessly as Ford deflates and lays back on Liz’s lap, he can’t stop the feeling that he’s betraying someone no matter what he does. But since it doesn’t seem like his presence is needed or even necessarily wanted there, he lets out a quiet sigh and makes his way out the door and calls an Uber on his way down to the lobby.

The dread he’s felt since last night dissipates as he approaches the entrance to the hospital a little while later, quickly replaced by a nervous anticipation he’s come to expect whenever he sees Timmy recently. It reminds him a bit of the early days of their friendship in Crema, when they were still getting to know each other and everything was new and exciting between them. 

But the feeling he has now is not exactly the same as it was back then, seasoned with the years of being so comfortable around each other he sometimes forgets where he ends and Timmy begins. And then there’s the piece of it he hasn’t been able to identify yet, a fuzzy warm glow that every so often crackles into a fiery spark, sometimes without warning, and that he’s found himself growing steadily addicted to. 

He opens the door, expecting to find Timmy watching one of the trashy soaps that he’s gotten sucked into over the weeks of being stuck with nowhere to go. But when his eyes scan the room, Timmy’s bed is empty. Instead, Timmy is about two-thirds of the way to the bathroom, holding onto the wall as he hobbles on one foot, the wheelchair he’s supposed to be using sitting ignored a few feet from the bed.

“Jesus, Timmy, what are you doing?”

The sudden intrusion takes Timmy by surprise, head whipping up from where he’d been concentrating on his feet. The movement causes him to lose his balance, and his leg gives out, folding at the knee as he tumbles down, catching himself on his hands but wincing hard at the impact.

“Oh fuck, Tim!”

He’s across the room before he can even take a proper breath, skidding to a stop in front of Timmy’s crumpled form and reaching out to help him. But when his hands curl around Timmy’s arm, ready to lift him up to alleviate the weight he’s supporting, Timmy flinches away and flops over into a sitting position on the floor, bringing his good leg up to his chest in a protective move.

“It’s fine, I got it.”

He can appreciate that Timmy is trying to put on a brave face, but he knows now isn’t the time to be stubborn. So he ignores Timmy’s protest and reaches out again. But he’s met with another flinch as Timmy shrinks further into the wall and away from his touch.

“I said I got it! I’m not a fucking invalid!”

The explosion of sound from Timmy’s throat is so startling, it causes him to jump back in stunned silence. He has no idea where the sudden hostility is coming from, but the thought of Timmy being offended by his offers to help pierces straight through his heart, and he feels a vice squeeze his lungs painfully, rendering him incapable of drawing in breath as he watches helplessly as Timmy struggles to pull himself back up.

Every cell in his body yearns to reach out and wrap his arms around Timmy, even if just to hold him, but the clear pain and anguish on Timmy’s face keep him frozen in place until Timmy is able to slide himself far enough along the wall to plop into the wheelchair he’d abandoned previously.

And then he can’t take it any longer, desperate to find out what’s going on and why Timmy is so upset.

“T, what’s going on? Are you hurt? Do I need to get the nurse? Why were you trying to walk without the bars? You’re not ready for that yet.”

He knows he’s rambling, but he can’t stop the barrage of questions, fear and adrenaline pumping throughout his whole body to the point where he’s almost shaking. He takes one step toward Timmy, but when he sees Timmy tense up again, he freezes, full on panic taking over now.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong. I just want to help you.”

Armie isn’t sure what he’s expecting as a reaction, but the mirthless scoff he receives definitely isn’t it. “Don’t you get it? It’s never been about that for me. I don’t need your _help_.”

Timmy hasn’t looked up to meet his eyes, and Armie can’t hold back the shiver that runs through him at Timmy’s cold tone as he speaks. None of this makes any sense, and he has no idea how they got here.

“Ok, I don’t understand. I thought that was the whole point of me being here. So if it’s not, then what _do_ you need?”

At that, Timmy’s head snaps up, eyes locking onto his with such fierce intensity that it actually causes a tiny gasp to escape his lips. He can see the pain and hurt blazing behind Timmy’s emerald orbs, but he’s at a complete loss for what is causing it, and it makes him even more desperate to make it go away.

There’s a long stretch where Timmy just stares at him, and Armie feels like the heat from his gaze will make him burst into flames at any second. And then just as soon as it began, the fire in his eyes dies away, and the hollow look that’s left behind is even more terrifying. Timmy’s entire body slumps forward, his eyes dropping from Armie’s to land somewhere near his feet.

“It doesn’t even matter anymore. If you haven’t figured it out by now, you’re never fucking going to. So what’s the point?”

The words are a punch right to his gut, knocking all the air from his lungs as he struggles to understand what could have happened between yesterday when Timmy was laughing and happy and the despair he finds him in now. It’s like his whole world is being turned on its head and he doesn’t have a clue why.

“Tim, what – “

He stops short when Timmy rolls the wheelchair the couple of feet back to the bed and shifts himself to sit on the edge of the mattress.

“Why _are_ you even still here, Armie? Because as much as you try to pretend like it is, it isn’t about me. Not anymore.”

The question comes completely out of left field, and he doesn’t even know where to start to answer it. And the more he turns the words over in his head, the more the he hears the accusation in them, and he can’t stop his defenses from flying up.

“What the fuck are you talking about?! Of course I’m here for you! Why else would I put my whole life on hold for almost 2 months?!”

He expects Timmy to argue back, to get angry and yell at him again, but he suddenly goes very still, taking a deep breath in before raising his head to meet Armie’s eyes once again.

“I dunno, man. But you did. And I think you need to have an honest conversation with yourself about why. Because this hasn’t been about helping me for a long time now, and I think deep down you know that. You just don’t want to admit it because then you’d have to address the real reason you’ve hung around this long.”

There’s a pit the size of a watermelon in his stomach now, and his mind is swirling out of control, trying to understand where this is all coming from, and why now, like this. He knows that part of what Timmy’s saying is true, having felt the undeniable shift in their dynamic but unsure of what it really meant or where it came from. And every time he’s wanted to address before now, they’ve been interrupted and he never quite knew how to bring it back up, so he’s just kept waiting, allowing it to grow naturally between them. But it seems like they can’t avoid talking about it any longer, even though he still doesn’t know what _it_ is, or why Timmy is so upset about whatever it means.

He’s still trying to formulate a coherent answer to Timmy’s last statement when he hears Timmy blow out a low breath, turning his head to the side as he begins again, voice quiet and resigned.

“You know, Liz came to see me last night.”

Everything grinds to a complete halt. Armies mind zeroes in on Timmy’s words, going over every syllable several times to make sure he didn’t mishear them, and suddenly everything since the moment he woke up this morning makes perfect sense. 

“ _What_?! Shit, what did she say?!”

Timmy twists his hands together in his lap but doesn’t look back at him. “It doesn’t matter.”

The sudden jolt of anger he feels startles even himself, unprepared to handle this fight on two fronts, especially when he can’t seem to get a read on where either of them stand.

“What the fuck does that mean?! Of course it matters! If she said something to you, if she made you feel guilty for me spending time here –“

“No, Armie, you don’t get it. It isn’t about _me_!”

Armie stops mid-rant, shocked by Timmy’s outburst and utterly confused by its meaning. All he can do is wait, hoping that whatever Timmy says next will help him understand this whole situation because he’s at a total loss for where to go from here.

“Look, I can’t do this anymore. I really thought I could, and I tried for so long to tell myself it was fine, that you wanted to be here and that whatever was going on with us wasn’t about her. But I can’t be in the middle anymore. Whatever is broken between you two, I can’t be the one to fix it for you. You need to talk to your wife, Armie. You need to decide what _you_ want. And…” Timmy pauses, taking a deep breath as his eyes slide shut. “I think it’s best if you go, and don’t come back here until you figure it out. I just…I can’t have you here right now. It’s too hard.”

All of the air in Armie’s lungs gets sucked out at Timmy’s last words, unable to bring in any more as his entire body goes stock still with paralyzing fear. It’s the one thing he can’t bear to lose, this connection he has with Timmy, whatever it is or means. He’s come to depend on it like a lifeline these past weeks, and he doesn’t know how to deal with everything else going on if he doesn’t have it to help ground him.

But the pain in both Timmy’s voice and eyes when he asks him to leave is overwhelming, and he suddenly understands that whatever _this_ is, it’s hurting the person he flew across the country in order to help heal. The realization that he’s only managed to do the opposite breaks something deep inside him, and he has to hold back the tears that threaten to push around the edges of his eyes.

“I…fuck, Timmy. I’m so sorry, for everything. I don’t know what else to say. I didn’t expect any of this to happen.”

He watches as Timmy clenches his jaw and nods slowly, feeling his chest ache with the desire to hold him but knowing he can’t. “I know.”

Armie knows that’s probably the best he’s going to get right now, and he probably doesn’t even deserve that much. He matches Timmy’s nod with a shaky one of his own before he starts to move back out of the room, wishing with everything in him that they could rewind the last 24 hours and do everything over again, figure things out and try to untangle the mess they’re in now before it gets to this point. But then, he knows it’s not that simple, it never was, and this whole thing started long before he even arrived in New York seven weeks ago.

As he reaches the door, he stops, turning his head back to look over his shoulder at Timmy, who he can tell is trying to keep his emotions in check until Armie is gone, and swallows thickly. “I’ll see ya, Timmy.”

He’s not expecting a reaction, but when Timmy looks over and meets his eyes for just a hint of a breath, the tiniest tug of his lips as he tries to give him a smile, he thinks maybe, just maybe, there’s hope for them yet.

But first, he needs to deal with the issue he’s been ignoring for way too long. And he’s suddenly very sure that the fight that he’s been trying to avoid since Liz arrived is not only inevitable, but one that he needs to have _right the fuck now_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note to say that several of you called the bit about Liz going to see Timmy, which I refrained from answering because I didn't want to ruin it, haha. But good job on guessing right about that! You'll learn a bit more about what happened with that next chapter. ;)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! First, I want to thank you for your patience with this update. The past week has been super hectic and my energy for writing has been pretty non-existent, but I didn't want to leave you all waiting for too long. So...things come to a huge head in this chapter. It's very dialogue-heavy, but it deals with a much-needed conversation, as well as some personal revelations for Armie. And there are still a couple (few, still not completely sure) chapters left, but the main climax happens between this chapter and the next one, so I hope you enjoy where it goes. :)
> 
> Thank you so, so much for all the amazing love and support for this story. I'm overwhelmed by how many people ask me about updates for this, or message me about how much they love it. It's honestly the best motivator and I'm so grateful for everyone who has commented or left kudos, or has reached out to me in some other way. You guys are the best. <3
> 
> And lastly, some of you are already aware, but my tumblr account was very abruptly deleted without warning on Friday, and I know a lot of my readers check for the links for my updates there. I'm in the process of trying to get tumblr to review the situation and put my account back, but in the meantime, I've set up a backup account at lfg1986-backup, so you can find me there for now if you want to follow me for any fic updates or other Charmie goodness. :)

It takes until he’s climbing into his Uber before Armie can stop seeing red, mind spinning with all the possible things Liz could have said to make Timmy so upset. He tries to calm down and think rationally, but given how Timmy said he didn’t want him to come back to see him until he has the situation with Liz figured out isn’t helping matters any. He doesn’t know how everything got so complicated between them, but one thing he knows for damn sure – he’s not about to lose Timmy now.

As the driver is pulling away from the hospital, it dawns on him that the kids are with Liz, and to have the conversation they need to have, they really can’t be there. Taking out his phone, he prays that he’s scored enough goodwill points for the huge favor he’s about to ask. He hits the button on his contacts and holds his breath as the first ring sounds through the ear piece.

The warm sound of Nicole’s voice as she greets him after the second ring makes him want to cry from relief. “Armie! What’s going on, sweetie?”

“Hey, Mama C. I know this is a huge imposition and I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t desperate, but I was wondering if there was any way you could watch the kids for a couple hours. I really need to talk to Liz. Alone.”

She doesn’t miss a beat before answering. “Of course I can. Tell me where to meet you.”

After giving her the name and address of the hotel, he thanks her about a million times before hanging up and slumping back against the seat of the car and closing his eyes, taking deep breaths and trying not to think about anything until the car pulls up to his hotel 15 minutes later.

Nicole is already there waiting outside for him, and she pulls him into a tight hug and holds on for what feels like years before letting go. “All right, let’s get the kiddos.”

On the elevator ride up to Armie’s suite, Nicole doesn’t say anything, though Armie knows she has to be curious about what’s going on. But she simply rubs a comforting hand up and down his back a couple times before moving it around to squeeze his forearm gently with a soft smile. As they approach the room, Armie tells her that the kids will be thrilled to get to spend some time with her since they’ve only seen her once since the first day the arrived and they keep asking about “Gramma Nicole”.

Armie slides the keycard into the slot and waits for the green light before pushing the door open quietly. Nicole decides to wait by the door while he rounds up Harper and Ford. He finds them in the living area, Harper on the couch playing a game on her tablet and Ford rolling his toy firetruck around on the floor in front of her. As he approaches, Ford looks up with a toothy grin.

“Daddy’s back!”

The firetruck is long forgotten as Ford pushes up to his feet and toddles over to Armie, who picks him up and kisses his forehead.

“Hey big guy, where’s your mom?”

Ford just shrugs, apparently having been too into playing to notice where Liz had gone. A few seconds later, he hears Harper’s voice wafting over to him, though she never looks up from her game. “She went into the bedroom a few minutes ago, said she’d be right back.”

For once, he’s glad that Liz left the kids alone for a few minutes, making it easier for Nicole to take them before she comes out and makes a scene. When he tells the kids that they’re going to spend a couple hours with Nicole, they are both excited, and Armie throws a few toys and other things they might need into a bag quickly before taking them over to toward the door where Nicole is waiting.

After Harper and Ford take turns giving Nicole a big hug, Armie hands her the bag and thanks her one last time.

“It’s my pleasure.” She leans in and kisses Armie’s cheek, and once again he wishes that he’d had her as a mother growing up.

Just as Nicole is leading the kids out the door, Harper turns back and gives Armie a confused look. “You’re not coming with us, Daddy?”

His chest tightens painfully, wishing with everything he has that his kids could be spared the pain of their parents’ issues, but knowing full well that no matter what he does to shield them, it will still affect them. “Not this time, sweetie. Your mom and I need to have a little time to ourselves, but we’ll come pick you up soon, don’t worry.”

He gives them both another hug and kiss before they take Nicole’s hand and head out the door. It barely closes behind them before he hears Liz’s clearly irritated voice behind him.

“What is going on? Where are the kids going?”

Taking a deep breath to try and not explode right then, Armie turns around and gives her a steely glare. “I asked Nicole to watch them for a couple of hours.”

“ _What_?! Why the fuck did you do that?! They were fine here with me! Go get them back _right now_.”

Liz marches toward him, obviously intent on going out to catch up with the kids before they leave the hotel, but Armie reaches out with both hands and firmly grasps her by the shoulders to stop her. “ _No_. We need to talk, and they can’t be here when we do.”

Liz, who had initially tried to resist Armie’s grip, stops cold and glares up at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?! Have you lost your mind?!”

An incredulous huff escapes his lips before he can stop himself. “No, but clearly _you_ have.”

Wrenching free of his grip, Liz takes a couple steps back, eyes flashing with a mix of irritation and confusion. “ _Excuse me_?! What the hell is going –“

“You went to see Timmy last night?! What the fuck were you thinking?!”

Everything goes very still for several beats, Liz clearly caught off guard by him knowing about her visit. But then suddenly Armie sees he roll her eyes as she scoffs quietly.

“Of course he told you.”

Armie shouldn’t be as surprised at her reaction as he is, but he can’t get over the accusation in her tone. “Damn right he told me! Why wouldn’t he?! He’s my best friend.” Another scoff, which he ignores. “Why the fuck didn’t _you_?!

Armie sees Liz stiffen, jaw clenching hard before she takes a deep breath to answer. “Because it was a conversation between me and him, and I don’t have to report everything to you.”

“Bullshit!”

His outburst causes Liz to jump a little in surprise, and in any other circumstance, he’d probably feel bad about it, but right now he can’t find it in him to care. Once she composes herself, she narrows her eyes into an annoyed glare.

“Whatever, I don’t have the energy for this. You can just go back to the hospital for all I care.”

She turns around to walk away, and this would normally be where Armie lets it die, just another thing they don’t talk about and let fester and drive them further apart, but he can’t do it this time.

“Oh trust me, I’d much rather be there than here right now, but we’re not done. What did you say to him?”

When she reaches the dining table, she stops, waiting for a beat before turning back to him with a tired sigh. “It doesn’t matter.”

Her refusal to answer only makes him angrier. “The fuck it doesn’t! He can barely look at me, won’t let me anywhere near him, and said I shouldn’t come back until _we_ talk. So you must have said _something_ to make him so upset.”

He doesn’t miss the flash of surprise behind her eyes at his statement, but he knows better than to mention it, rather concentrating on the real issue at hand. For a minute, he thinks she isn’t going to answer, or will brush him off with another non-answer until he drops it. But after a several second stare-off, he watches her blow out a breath and the fight goes right out of her. She slumps down into one of the chairs at the table and lowers her gaze to the floor.

“I didn’t _tell_ him anything.” She pauses, and he tries not to explode in the seconds before she takes a deep breath and continues. “I _asked_ him if – if you two were having an affair.”

The words stun him to the point where he’s barely able to register the hitch in her voice, can’t concentrate on her pain when his entire brain is trying to wrap around the suggestion that he’s having an affair with Timmy. He’s not sure if it’s seconds or minutes or hours later when he finally responds.

“What? Are you insane?! Why would you even think that?!”

Liz shakes her head softly, her voice coming out quiet but firm when she answers, but her eyes stay fixed on the ground. “It’s not a crazy thought. You’ve insisted on being with him every day for the past two months.”

Everything goes red, and he has to clench his hands into a fist to keep himself from starting to shake with rage. “Are you fucking kidding me?! He almost _died_ , Liz! Don’t you understand that?! He’s my best friend and I almost lost him, so of course I’m going to want to spend time with him. Why on earth would you think that meant we were having an affair?!”

“Because he’s in love with you!”

The way Liz shoots up from the chair as she delivers her exclamation catches Armie so off-guard, he ends up taking a step back and blinking rapidly several times before he can compose himself enough to let her actual words sink in.

“ _What_?”

The derisive scoff he gets in response doesn’t help the situation. “Oh please, like you didn’t know. I know you can be thick sometimes, but you’re not dumb or blind. He’s been in love with you since Crema and not exactly subtle about it. What the fuck was I supposed to think when you started staying later and later in the hospital to see him, forgetting to Facetime with the kids…”

She trails off, which is just as well because he stopped hearing anything she said after the revelation that Timmy has supposedly been in love with him since Crema. There had been a handful of moments during filming when he’d thought maybe something was going on, but they were fleeting and the whole experience was such an exercise in character bleed that he didn’t really think much of it at the time.

And even during the promo tour, things between them had been a little intense at times, but they hadn’t crossed any major lines. And ever since that ended and they both went back to their respective lives, they’d remained firmly on the “friend” side of things.

Or at least he thought they had. But thinking back over the past several weeks, he realizes maybe that’s not entirely true. That the shift between them that he hadn’t been able to fully identify was more significant than he originally gave it credit for. And as he considers the possibility now, that maybe Timmy sees him as more than a friend, he realizes that Liz is right. On some level, he’s always known, he just never allowed himself to think about it in any real way because he was married and knew nothing would ever happen.

But somehow, the accident and the intense emotions that came with it shook something loose in him, something that he’s kept locked up tight for so long he almost forgot it was there. And somewhere along the way, he let himself feel vulnerable in ways he hasn’t been since Crema, and the lines got blurred even worse than before. And now that he thinks about what Liz said, he can’t believe he didn’t see it before.

He looks back over at Liz now, who has moved to sit back down while she waits for Armie to say something. The majority of the anger he felt minutes has left his system, but there’s still a hint of it swirling around amid the other emotions he’s currently trying to wrestle under control.

“So that’s why you flew out here without telling me? Because you thought I was cheating on you?”

He swallows back the bitter taste in his mouth as he watches Liz twist her hands together in her lap.

“I didn’t know what to think, ok? I felt you pulling away from me, and I thought maybe, if I was here, it would be different, that I could – “

“Control my every move until we went back to L.A.? You had us galivanting around the city like tourists on speed. You didn’t trust me that much? Timmy’s in a hospital bed, for christsake, what did you think we were gonna do?”

It comes out harsher than he means it to, but the anger flares back up when he considers everything she’s done since she arrived, all the ways she’s tried to keep him from seeing Timmy, and knowing the real reason behind it only makes it worse.

But Liz meets his anger with her own, standing up again and stepping up to him, face only inches from his. “Hey, you’re the one who left in the middle of the night and got on a plane to fly across the country with no consideration for how it would affect me or the kids. And you refused to come back until he was fully recovered. So what would you have me do? Stay in L.A. alone and wait for you while the boy who’s been in love with you for years gets your undivided attention? I’m sorry, I know I didn’t go about it the right way, but I seem to be the only one fighting for this marriage right now, and I just – I can’t do it alone, Arms.”

The heat of his anger is doused with an icy wave of guilt when he thinks back to the ways Liz has tried to get close to him lately, only for him to shut her down. It wasn’t something he consciously decided, but they’ve been operating on separate wavelengths for so long now, that trying to sync back up on the same one seems almost impossible. But then he also knows that the situation is much more complicated than just what’s been going on the past few weeks.

“Our problems started long before Timmy ever entered the picture, and I think if you’re honest with yourself, you know that. He may have…complicated matters some, but the cracks were already there. You can’t blame him for the current state of our marriage. We were already on this path.”

She looks stricken by his words, and while he hates to see her in pain, he also knows it’s the truth, one that he’s been holding in for a long time and feels a wave of sheer relief upon speaking it out loud. He’s spent years simmering in resentment of her treatment of Timmy, and the way she’s tried to come between them. And the guilt he’s felt about allowing her to do it has been eating away at him.

“So what, it’s just all my fault now?”

Armie lets out a frustrated sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying we _both_ have been moving in different directions for a long time now, since before Call Me ever happened. And yeah, that experience had a huge impact on me, but it wasn’t because of Timmy. Or at least, not _only_ because of him.”

“What does that even mean?”

It occurs to Armie that he doesn’t even know how to explain the feeling that’s been growing inside him since he first stepped into the villa in Italy that summer 5 years ago, that there aren’t words to describe it, it’s just something he knows deep in his core is what he needs. And that Timmy is inextricably linked to it in a way he’s not sure Liz will ever accept.

“It means…it means that I _need_ Timmy. I don’t know how to explain it any other way, and it’s not because we’re having an affair, but he’s a part of something that I can’t just walk away from. And I need you to understand that if we’re going to make this work.”

Liz is silent for several seconds, and when she finally speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper. “Do you even _want_ to make this work?”

The question shouldn’t hit him as hard as it does, considering the situation they’re in, and yet for some reason it lands like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him. Despite everything they’ve been dealing with, and the ever-growing chasm between them, he never really considered ending things for real. It was just something he’d resigned himself to, and was willing to put up with to keep the kids in a semi-stable environment, but he realizes now that it never would have worked long-term. They would have come to this place one way or another. But that doesn’t mean he’s ready to make any final decisions in this moment.

Liz seems to take his silence as an answer though, and he can see the tears forming around the edges of her eyes, despite her attempts to blink them away.

His chest tightens as he watches her face twist in pain, and he can’t help but reach out to her in an instinctual offer of comfort. “Elizabeth…”

But she backs away, shaking her head and holding out a hand to stop him from moving closer. “No, don’t. I knew…I knew when you came here that I might lose you. I just wasn’t ready to accept it. And all these years, I was so focused on the fact that Timmy was in love with you, I never thought…”

She stops, breath hitching on the last word, and Armie swallows around the lump in his throat. “You never thought what?”

He holds his breath as he waits for her to continue, watching as she squeezes her eyes shut for a brief second before opening them again and raising them to meet his. “I never thought you’d fall in love with him, too.”

The words splash over him like a bucket of ice water, awakening every nerve ending in his body, and he’s suddenly very aware of his heart pounding so hard in his chest, he’s afraid it might burst through his ribcage. He goes completely still, unable to move or speak, or do anything but watch helplessly as the first tears streak down Liz’s face.

“You do, don’t you? Love him.”

His breath is coming in short pants, unable to get enough air before it all rushes out of him again. The word resonates through his whole body, sending tendrils of warmth swirling in all directions. His brain wraps around it, trying to find the proper place for it. His feelings about Timmy have never been easy to define, but then he never really felt a need to before now. They just _were_ , and the two of them existed on a plane that was unlike any of his other friendships, and he never thought to question why or how. It just felt natural and right.

But love? There were so many different way to love someone, and many of them overlap and twist around each other, it was hard to know which of them applied in this case. But he can’t deny the feelings of desire that have somehow crept into their relationship lately, sparked by his seemingly innocent offer to help get Timmy off, then later realizing it wasn’t so innocent after all. And despite trying to attribute it to his lack of sex life in his marriage, he knew deep down there was more to it than that. He’d come to crave Timmy’s touch, even just a hand on his arm or the feel of his back as he helped support Timmy as he tried to walk. And all of his complicated emotions about what Timmy represents to him got wrapped up in this new _thing_ between them, and he isn’t sure what to make of any of it anymore.

“I don’t – _I don’t know_.” It the only answer he can truthfully give, out of his depth to figure this all out alone. He needs to talk to Timmy, to see where he is with everything, but he isn’t sure if he’ll even be willing to see him at this point.

It’s all he can do to watch the tears continue to fall silently from her eyes as she fights to regain her composure.

“Right, of course you don’t.” It’s not said with as much bitterness as he would expect, but it still packs a punch.

“Listen, I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I never meant for any of this to happen. I didn’t even realize it _was_ happening. I don’t know what else to say.”

She looks at him sharply then, eyes puffy from crying but blazing heat beneath them. “That’s it, then? You’re not even gonna _try_ and save us?”

The fierceness in her tone catches him off-guard, and for a beat all he can do is blink dumbly at her. “I’m not sure we _can_ save it.”

It’s the most honest thing he’s said in what feels like years, and though he feels a weight lift from his chest when the words leave his mouth, he still hates the way Liz’s whole body recoils at hearing them. He doesn’t want to hurt her, but he also knows that what it would take to truly fix things between them is most likely beyond what either of them are realistically willing to do. And he can’t see a way around that anymore.

There’s a long stretch of silence between them, and all Armie can hear is the thumping of his own heartbeat echoing loudly in his ear, waiting for the inevitable explosion that comes next.

But surprisingly, it doesn’t come. Instead, Liz turns and walks back into the bedroom without a word. Part of him is tempted to follow her, because he knows they can’t just leave it like that, but he decides against it, choosing to wait until she’s ready to come back out to continue. But when she emerges again a few minutes later, she’s carrying her purse and one of their small rolling suitcases.

“What’s going on? Where are you going?”

She stops a few feet in front of him, and he can tell that she’s fighting to keep her emotions under control more than before. “I can’t do this. I can’t be here anymore. I can’t just sit here and watch… _whatever_ it is that’s going on with you two. You need to decide what it is you want, once and for all. But I can’t wait around for you to figure it out. I’m taking the kids back to L.A. with me.”

It takes his brain a minute to catch up, but once it does, a wave of panic washes over him. “What? You’re leaving, just like that?”

He can tell she wants to yell, lash out at him, but she manages to stay surprisingly calm. “Yes. We’re already booked on a flight later tonight. I’m picking them up now, but we will have to come back to get the rest of their things. I’d like it if you weren’t here when we come back. I’ll text you once we’re gone.”

“Whoa, wait a second, you can’t just take the kids without allowing me to see them first.”

Liz’s eyes narrow sharply at that. “The kids live in L.A. As do you, in case you forgot. There’s nothing keeping you from seeing them if you want to return.”

It feels like a slap across the face, but he can’t exactly argue her point. It’s at least reassuring to know she isn’t going to try and keep him from them once he gets back to L.A. Whenever that may be.

She makes to move around him toward the door, and for a second he hesitates to move out of the way so she can get by, but he can tell by the look on her face that he shouldn’t push her, so he lets out a sigh and steps out of her path. He braces him arms on the marble counter of the kitchenette, trying to figure out how everything unraveled so quickly, when he hears Liz’s soft voice coming from the doorway.

“I think you’re wrong, just so you know. We _can_ fix this. I want to. And if you decide you want to give things another try, just come home. We can start over, go to therapy, do whatever it takes.” There’s a pause, and when she speaks again, her voice is full of raw emotion. “I still love you, Armie, despite everything. I don’t want to lose what we had. We can get it back. But…if you decide that you want _him_ …if you truly love Timmy, then for fuck’s sake, tell him. Don’t fuck it up and end up losing us both.”

And with that, she’s out the door. Armie can’t do anything but stare dumbly at the spot she had been standing in, trying to take in the full meaning of what she just said. The fact that she used Timmy’s actual name, which she usually avoids at all costs, tells him that she was being serious. And knowing that just makes everything even more confusing and complicated.

He ends up leaving the hotel shortly after his confrontation with Liz, deciding it was better to honor her request for him to not be there when she came back for the rest of their bags. He ends up walking around in a fog for hours, not even paying attention to where he’s going, just keeping his body moving in an attempt to distract his brain from the jumble of thoughts that are currently tumbling around. He just wants to lose himself and not think about the fact that his marriage is most likely over, or that he might be in love with his best friend – who doesn’t even want to talk to him – or that he has no idea what the fuck to do now.

When he gets the text that Liz has left for the airport, along with a selfie of the three of them that absolutely does _not_ make him start crying in the middle of Central Park, he slowly makes his way back to the hotel for the night, where he proceeds to drink himself into oblivion.

His first instinct upon waking in a still half-drunk haze the next morning is to go see Timmy, try to figure out where they stand. But then he realizes that he’s not in any state to see anyone right now. And he wants to honor Timmy’s request to stay away until he figures out what he wants.

He lasts all of three days before he breaks down and heads back to the hospital, still not sure of anything but unable to stand not seeing Timmy anymore. He hopes maybe once he gets there, and they talk, things will become clear and they can move forward, one way or another.

As he approaches Timmy’s hospital room, he’s suddenly hit with the memory of the first night he got to New York, right after the accident. He thinks back to how he felt, the panic and fear of losing Timmy, the guilt of all the months he’d spent pulling away from him, the vulnerability of caring for someone so much, he didn’t even blink before getting on a plane across the country to be by his side.

This thing between him and Timmy may have started years ago, but it all changed the night he walked through the door of his hospital room and was faced with the real possibility of losing him. And now, he feels a strange sense of déjà vu, feeling that same fear but now for an entirely different reason, one which he knows he has the power to control, if he wishes to, which somehow scares him even more.

Taking a deep breath and summoning all of his courage, Armie pushes open the door to Timmy’s room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the cliffhanger. I originally meant to include a bit more, but then decided it would fit better with the next chapter, so I had to break it here. There's at least 2 more chapters for sure, and I'm considering adding an epilogue which will be mostly smut, but I don't think anyone will object, lol. ;) Anyway, come yell at me in the comments if you need to, or find me on tumblr at lfg1986-backup. <333


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you for your patience in getting these updates to you. I'm doing my best to keep them under two weeks whenever possible. And hopefully the next one will be a bit quicker because it will be bit shorter than normal (it was going to be included in this chapter and then I decided it would work better as its own thing). But I really appreciate all the amazing and encouraging messages I receive about updates for this story. It means so much to me that you guys are enjoying reading it as much as I am loving writing it. <333
> 
> So just a warning, though Armie finally talks to Timmy in this chapter...it isn't the end of the story yet, so...you know there's still gotta be a bit of angst to get through before they can get to their happy ending (and you know me, I don't do unhappy endings). So while I know this chapter will probably frustrate a lot of people, it does serve a purpose. And hopefully you'll understand why next chapter. But if you must yell, you're welcome to do so either in the comments or at my still-temporary tumblr lfg1986-backup until my old account is restored (hopefully SOON).
> 
> And as always, all the comments and kudos make my life happy and shiny and bright and I love every single one of you for being such wonderful, supportive readers. <333
> 
> Enjoy!

The first thing Armie is aware of when he steps into Timmy’s hospital room is the silence. The assortment of beeps and hums that had emanated from the various machines and had been the constant background score for every second he’s spent with Timmy for the past two months is suddenly absent. The next thing he registers is the empty bed, and all of Timmy’s belongings that normally surrounded it are nowhere to be seen.

An icy cold feeling of dread and panic shoot through him, and he’s about two seconds away from yelling for a nurse when a quiet voice floats over to him.

“Armie?”

Armie’s head snaps over to the far corner of the room and spots Timmy coming out of the bathroom door with a handful of toiletries. For a few seconds he’s still too overcome with panic to say anything, so he watches as Timmy hobbles the couple feet from the doorway to where he’d parked the wheelchair and deposits the items he’d been carrying into a small bag before lowering himself down to sit.

“What are you doing here?”

The sound of Timmy’s voice calling to him again manages to snap him out of his paralysis, and he swallows quickly to help alleviate his suddenly dry mouth. “Umm, I uh…I came to talk to you.” Timmy just looks at him expectantly without reply, and suddenly he has no idea what he should say. He decides to address the obvious question first. “What’s going on? Where is all your stuff?”

Despite the palpable tension between them, Timmy’s face softens and a hint of a smile crosses his face. “They’re letting me go home. Finally.”

The word “home” is said with barely contained joy, and for a minute Armie can’t bring himself to care about anything else – the overwhelming relief and happiness that Timmy has made it through this journey overtaking all the other emotions that come with the news. “Really? That’s amazing, dude! I’m sure you’re more than ready to sleep in your own bed after being here for so long.”

Timmy gives a snort at that. “You have no idea.”

They both let out a few chuckles, the awkwardness ebbing enough for there to be a few seconds of genuine ease between them. Once they settle again, a tiny niggle of worry creeps up in the back of Armie’s mind. “Are they sure you’re ready, though? I mean, I know you’ve been making great progress but your other leg is still in a cast and all.”

Timmy chews on his bottom lip for a brief second before answering. “Yeah, they said I’ve come along far enough that I should be ok on my own now. The cast should be coming off in another two weeks, and Pauline is gonna come stay with me until then so she can help with getting me whatever I need. I’m just…I really need to get out of here. I’m going to lose my mind if I stay here any longer.”

There’s a part of Armie that can completely understand the restlessness Timmy feels to get back to his own home, his regular life. But the other part of him, the part that has been secretly dreading this day because it means he also would need to return to his own life makes its way to the forefront as he feels his chances of fixing things with Timmy slipping away.

“So where does that leave _us_ , then?”

Timmy dips his head, a few curls falling over one eye for a beat before he slowly raises his head again and looks directly into Armie’s eyes. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

Armie isn’t prepared to have things turned back around on him, but he can’t say it’s unwarranted given their last interaction. “I talked to Liz.” He blurts out the words and then waits a bit, curious to see if Timmy would react at all. When he doesn’t, Armie clears his throat and continues. “She told me what you two talked about. Or, well…some of it, anyway. The main part.”

Armie studies Timmy’s face, trying to eke out an ounce of information from the way his face shifts slightly, but for once, he has no idea what Timmy is thinking. But when Timmy nods slightly, hope swirls in his gut. “And?”

There’s a part of him that knows he deserves Timmy’s coldness, after learning what happened the other night, but it doesn’t make it any easier to try and talk to him now. “First of all, I’m so sorry she came here like that. If I’d had any idea she was going to do that…” He can feel the anger rising in his throat again as he thinks back to his fight with Liz, but he tries to push it down. This isn’t about her. “Anyway, I feel terrible, you didn’t deserve to be put in the middle of our shit like that.”

When Timmy starts shaking his head, Armie freezes. “I don’t need you to defend me, Armie. I’m a big boy and can handle myself. And no disrespect to your marriage, but I don’t really care what she thinks of me. It’s what she thinks of _you_ that I have problems with.”

And just like that, he’s transported back to the night of their fight, the night of the accident, where all of this started. It had been what Timmy had been trying to tell him then, too, but he hadn’t been ready to hear it. He silently curses himself for being so stubborn. Maybe if he had listened to Timmy then, none of them would be in the mess they’re in now.

He lets out a quiet scoff and angles his head down toward the floor. “Not sure there’s much of a marriage left to disrespect at this point, anyway.” He waits, expecting Timmy to say something, but when he risks glancing back up at him, Timmy is patiently waiting for him for him to continue. “Liz and I…she’s gone. Took the kids back to L.A. I’m pretty sure our marriage is over.”

Timmy stays very still for a long minute before he finally lets out a long breath. “I’m sorry, Armie.”

For some reason, he hadn’t been expecting those words from Timmy, despite it being the usual response people give to that type of news. But given everything they’ve been through in the recent weeks, it almost feels wrong hearing it from him. 

“Really?”

Timmy’s jaw clenches, and though he hadn’t meant the question as an accusation, he realizes Timmy probably took it as one. “I’m sorry that something you once believed in and thought would last forever is ending, and for the pain that goes with that decision. But I can’t say I’m sorry about the actual decision, because I think it’s the right one, for both of you.”

Armie can’t deny that the words sting a bit, even though he knows Timmy’s completely right about all of it. After all, he’d been the first one to recognize it when neither he nor Liz had been willing to accept how broken their marriage had become. He can’t bring himself to say anything in response, though, so he just nods, hoping Timmy understands his intended meaning.

There’s a long stretch of silence between them, Armie trying and failing to think of what to say next. Finally, it’s Timmy who speaks up.

“So why are you here now?”

A wave of uncertainty rolls through him as he’s suddenly confronted with the question he’s been wrestling with for days. Or weeks, really, if he’s honest. He’d been hoping seeing Timmy would somehow shake him from his confused haze and reveal the truth, but all it really did was complicate things further in his brain. But he knows he has to start somewhere, so he decides to jump in head first.

“Liz thinks I’m in love with you.”

“ _Are_ you?”

It should be an easy enough question to answer, a simple “yes” or “no”, and yet nothing about their relationship has ever been simple. Not from the moment they met, and especially not since he got on a plane 8 weeks ago to be by Timmy’s side while he fought for his life. So much has happened in that short time, but trying to make sense of any of it hasn’t been very successful so far.

He’s never questioned that he loves Timmy, that’s been a given since the very beginning. But he’s never really thought about what loving him really _meant_ , and all the ways it can manifest itself and change their relationship over time. Timmy has been such a constant fixture in his life for the last 5 years, and even when he tried to pull away from him in a vain effort to appease Liz and save his crumbling marriage, Timmy was still always there in his mind and heart.

But being _in love_ with him? It’s not something he ever entertained as a real possibility until a few days ago, and despite knowing things are different between them than they used to be, he isn’t sure he’s ready to give it such a finite label. It’s too big, too real. And the fear of being wrong, of letting Timmy believe he’s in love and then later discovering he isn’t and breaking Timmy’s heart even more is too much for him to handle. He has to be sure, and right now…he isn’t.

“I…I don’t know.”

Timmy doesn’t move or even blink for so long that Armie starts to think maybe he had only thought the words in his head and not spoken them out loud. But just as he’s about to open his mouth again to make sure, Timmy lets out long sigh, followed by a mirthless chuckle. “Of course you don’t.”

Something in his chest shatters at Timmy’s defeated tone, and knowing that he’s the cause of it causes a lump to form in his throat. “Timmy, I really wish – “

“No, just don’t.” The flash of anger behind Timmy’s eyes as he glares up at him makes Armie freeze. “I don’t need your wishes or consolations. I never asked for any of this, ok? I didn’t ask for you to come here, or for you to put your life on hold so you could stay this whole time. You did that all on your own. And I _definitely_ didn’t ask for you to jerk me off and pretend it’s a perfectly normal thing for friends to do. And I didn’t say anything because I was scared of freaking you out when things were finally starting to be good again between us. But when Liz came here the other night asking about an affair, it made it pretty damn clear that what’s been happening between us lately hasn’t all been in my head. Because I think we both know it’s not. You’ve felt it, I know you have. And you’ve been leaning into it just as much as I have. But if you’re not ready to accept what it actually means, then there’s really no point in you being here anymore.”

Armie isn’t sure if he’s taken a breath the entire time Timmy had been talking, but he feels like his lungs might explode from the pressure he feels squeezing around them when he tries to drag in a shaky inhale. “Wait…what are you saying?”

Timmy lets out another sigh, this one more tired and resigned than the last. “I think you should go home, Armie.”

“You mean back to my hotel?” Somehow the words don’t make sense, and his brain frantically tries to figure out what’s going on.

But the look in Timmy’s eyes is clear when he answers. “No, _home_. To L.A. To your life there, your kids. I know you and Liz have a lot to figure out right now with everything, and…” Timmy pauses, and Armie stops breathing again. “I’m not sure there’s anything left to figure out here. I can’t do this halfway, and I’m not about to force you into something you’re not ready for. But you should go.”

Armie’s entire body goes ice cold as the words sink in. Though he always knew his stay in New York was temporary – and with Timmy being released to go home it makes logical sense for him to return to his own life – he’s no more ready to leave now than he was the day he arrived and didn’t know whether Timmy would survive or not.

He wants to argue, or cry, or scream, or _something_. But all he can manage is to stand frozen in place, completely paralyzed with the fear of possibly losing the person he’s beginning to realize is most important in his life aside from his kids. And to make matters worse, he knows he only has himself to blame. Liz’s parting words to him echo in his mind, and though he hates to admit it, he knows she was right. He fucked it up, and now he’s about to lose them both.

“Timmy, wait – “

“Ok Tiny Tim, let’s get mov—”

Armie stops when a voice, who he distinctly recognizes as Pauline’s, comes from behind him.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.” Pauline’s usual cheery tone instantly dulls when she addresses Armie’s presence, and he’s pretty sure she’s about to make good on her promise to break his face after how he’s treated Timmy lately. But instead, she just moves past him and over to stand behind Timmy’s wheelchair, obviously itching to get her baby brother away from him.

“It’s ok, ‘line, he was just leaving. Right?”

The look in Timmy’s eyes when he looks back over to him, the sadness mixed with pain and heartache and all the things that could have been are almost enough to break Armie completely. He feels his heart split wide open, and he knows there’s no fixing it this time. He came here to help Timmy mend his broken body, but in the process he ended up breaking both of their hearts.

Pauline starts to push the wheelchair forward without looking up at Armie, and though he knows he deserves it, his heart aches at having lost another Chalamet he loves in all of this. Just as they’re almost past Armie, still not having moved from the spot he’s been stuck to for what feels like an eternity, he reaches a hand out to grab Timmy’s shoulder before he can completely pass him.

“Wait. I can’t leave until – I know I have no right to ask you this – but I just need to know that I haven’t lost you completely. That our friendship can somehow survive this. Please.”

If he thought it would help, he’d probably get down on his knees and grovel at Timmy’s feet, his desperation to keep Timmy in his life in any way possible overcoming any sense of pride or dignity he has left at this point. He’s halfway expecting Pauline to tell him to fuck off and keep moving, but he’s beyond grateful when she waits quietly, allowing her brother to give his own answer to Armie’s plea.

It takes several beats, but finally Timmy’s soft voice floats up to him from the chair below, though he keeps his head down to avoid looking at Armie’s eyes. “You haven’t lost me. I’m not ready to completely give up on us, either. I just…I need time. For it to not hurt as much. I just wish…” Timmy pauses, and then he does lift his head back so that he can meet Armie’s eyes, full of longing and despair. “I wish you hadn’t allowed me to think there was something more to hope for.”

Tears spring unbidden to his eyes as his heart fully shatters into a thousand tiny pieces, leaving him with nothing tangible left to hold onto. And before he can formulate a reply that isn’t just stuttering nonsense, Pauline continues pushing past him until they are almost out the door. Timmy stops one more time, his voice wavering slightly as he calls back to him.

“Have a safe flight back. I’ll…I’ll call you…when I’m ready.”

And with that, they’re gone, and Armie is left alone, standing frozen in the middle of the room, unable to move or breathe or think. He doesn’t know how long he stays glued to that spot, but when he finally manages to move again, his knees ache and wobble slightly as he makes his way to the door, turning back to give one last glance at the empty room which now has no traces of Timmy anywhere left in it.

There’s a numbness that takes hold as he makes his way down to the entrance and out to the car that’s waiting for him. He doesn’t even remember ordering it, but he climbs into the backseat without question and allows the very nice but chatty girl driving the Uber take him back to the hotel. Part of him feels bad that he’s not great at returning her attempts to make conversation, but he can’t bring himself to care enough about whatever she’s asking him. At least she doesn’t seem to recognize him, so he’s thankful for small miracles.

When he reaches the hotel, he spends a while blankly staring at the empty space, and he begins to feel like this is a recurring theme in his life these days. The people who used to fill these spaces have all left, leaving him alone to stare at the places in his life they used to occupy and wondering if they’re better off wherever they are now, without him.

He suddenly can’t stand staying in that hotel alone one more night, even though he knows it’s too late to check out and will have to pay for the night anyway. He mindlessly throws things into his bag, grateful that Liz had already taken everything except the original bag he flew out there with. He books the first flight that’s available for that evening and is on his way to the airport less than an hour later.

He tries to switch his mind off on the drive over, even closing his eyes to shut out the passing traffic, but the image of Timmy’s heartbroken face keeps manifesting itself behind his eyelids no matter how many times he tries to blink it away. He would do anything to make the sadness in Timmy’s eyes go away, to undo all the pain he’s caused and find a way to make his own mind and heart sync up so that he could give Timmy the answers he needs. But he doesn’t have the answers himself, and he isn’t sure how to go about finding them.

As the driver pulls up alongside the entrance doors for his airline at JFK, an idea suddenly comes over him. He’s not sure if it will work, or even if he’ll be allowed in, but he knows he has to try. For both himself and Timmy.

“Hey, are you ok back there?”

He realizes the driver has been waiting for him to get out and is probably impatient to get to his next ride, and he hopes he can get him to along with his new plan.

“Actually, can you take me somewhere else instead? I’ll give you an extra hundred dollars in your tip for the trouble.” Luckily the driver agrees and is more than grateful for the promised tip. Once he gives the address, he sends up a prayer that he’s built up enough goodwill these past weeks that the door won’t be slammed in his face when he arrives at his destination.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so, I'm so soooo sorry for the unexpected gap in between updates. The best laid plans and all that...
> 
> But I'm back, and we are getting soooo close to the end now! Just two more chapters after this - the next one will be the major climax and then there will be a smutty epilogue to finish things off right. But first...this chapter, while not super long, is pretty important in having Armie figuring things out for himself and finally coming to terms with everything he's been wrestling with in regards to his feelings for Timmy. So I hope you like it. And I promise a happy ending next chapter, which will be coming as soon as I can write it! Thank you all soooo much for your patience and understanding and support. 
> 
> And as always, I cannot express how much all of your comments and kudos and messages of support and love mean to me. It's overwhelming to know how much people love this story, and I am eternally grateful for all of you who have expressed that in whatever way. Thank you. I hope you enjoy! <333

Staring at the familiar door in front of him, Armie takes a deep breath and prays that he isn’t too late. He’d thought about calling first, but every time he tried to dial the number, he’d chicken out. So by the time the Uber dropped him off at the address he’d given, he figured he’d just take his chances and hope he didn’t get the door slammed in his face.

He raises his fist and knocks twice, holding his breath for the several seconds it takes for the person on the other side to open the door. All the air rushes out of his lungs at the welcome sight of Nicole standing there, somehow looking completely unsurprised to see him on her doorstep. She gives him a fond look of understanding that almost makes him break down in tears right there as she opens the door wider, inviting him inside.

As he walks past her and into the small apartment, she reaches out and squeezes his bicep softly. “Should I break out the whiskey?”

He can’t hold back the bark of surprised laughter that erupts from his throat, her easy, light tone instantly dispelling his fears about showing up unannounced. He isn’t sure how she can be so gracious about everything given the circumstances, but he’s eternally grateful for it. And while he’s incredibly tempted to take her up on the offer, he figures adding alcohol to the mix right now would probably not be the smartest idea. He doesn’t trust himself not to do something reckless under the influence, and the situation is already too delicate as it is, he can’t risk fucking it up even more.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I should probably pass this time.”

Nicole nods in understanding and finally pushes the door closed, her hand moving from his arm to his back and pressing lightly to guide him toward the living room to sit down.

Once they both settle in comfortably on the couch, there’s a stretch of silence where Armie tries to figure out how to start. There are so many things he wants to say, so many questions he wants to ask, but his mind can’t seem to settle on any of them to lead with. It’s only after they’ve been quiet for several seconds and Nicole’s hand gently lands on his knee in silent support that he figures he should start with the simplest one and go from there.

He takes a slow breath in and turns his head to meet her eyes. “How much do know, exactly?”

Nicole is quiet for a beat, studying his face carefully before quirking her lips up in a small smile. “Timmy gave me the cliff notes version when I went to bring him some dinner a little while ago.”

The feeling of her squeezing his knee makes his chest ache, not understanding how she can be so kind to him knowing that he broke her son’s heart. He forces a nod, not trusting himself to speak until he’s able to bring his emotions back under control. It takes another minute, but finally he manages to press on.

“I don’t even understand how we got here, you know? It’s like one minute I’m here trying to help my friend, and then somehow things got so complicated and messed up and I am so far out of my depth. I don’t know what to do.”

Nicole doesn’t answer right away, just looks at him with an unreadable expression on her face for a long beat before she finally speaks. “You know, this might be the first time Timmy’s ever come right out and talked to me about his feelings, but I’ve been watching you both for years now. And while this may seem sudden to you, the first time I ever saw you two together, I could already tell this wasn’t just any other friendship between two costars. It was so beautiful to watch the way you were around each other, like there was no one else in the world except the two of you. It’s not often you find a connection like that in life. And it was just in its infancy back then; it could have gone in a million different ways after all the promotion for the movie ended. But you kept that close bond for these last five years, and I think there’s a reason for that.”

Armie takes a minute to let her words sink in, going back in his mind to the days when he and Timmy were on the promo tour and it felt like they would always be that close. And they had managed to keep pretty close to that…until Armie had pulled back in the recent months.

“You think I’m in love with him?” Maybe it’s because he’s had some time to sit with the idea, or Nicole’s comforting presence, but the words don’t seem as terrifying as they had been just a few days ago.

Nicole gives him a soft smile and reaches for his hand, taking it in her own and giving it a squeeze. “Oh, that isn’t for me to say. I’ve never once doubted how much you care about Timmy. Even when you became distant in these last months, I knew it didn’t change anything about how you felt about him. But being in love is such an intensely personal thing, and the only person who can know for sure how you feel is you.”

He gives an incredulous snort at that. The only thing he’s sure of right now is that he _isn’t_ sure about anything. “I wish I could have that kind of confidence. I just…don’t know. And I’m scared of hurting him.” He doesn’t add the “any more than I already have” that echoes in his mind, the guilt of all the ways he’s caused Timmy pain recently swirling in his gut and making him want to throw up.

He can feel the waves of pity rolling off Nicole, and he’s suddenly overwhelmed with frustration at his inability to figure out his own emotions. He lets out an annoyed, “Fuck,” as he leans forward to bury his face in his hands. It shouldn’t be this hard. He thinks back to when he and Liz first got together, and how simple and easy it all seemed. It had felt like everything he was looking for, and he never once doubted his decision. At least…he hadn’t until he showed up in Italy one summer a few years back and his entire worldview shifted.

A gentle hand strokes through his hair, sending a soothing current of warmth through his body. He lets out a long, shuddering breath and relaxes into her touch, trying not to lose his composure until he’s able to find what he came here looking for: answers.

There’s a long stretch of silence where he simply allows himself to absorb the comfort that Nicole is giving him, still not sure he deserves such compassion but unable to refuse it. When he finally gathers enough strength to forge on, he sits back up slowly, but Nicole’s hand follows the movement to continue stroking through his hair softly.

“He asked me point blank if I was in love with him, and I…I couldn’t give him an answer. And his face…” Armie pauses, the image of Timmy, heartbreak in his eyes, springing to his mind. “I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me. I probably wouldn’t if I were him.”

Nicole’s hand trails down from his hair to the back of his neck, rubbing small circles. “I wouldn’t be so sure. I think Timmy knows how hard this is for you, and while he may be hurting right now, he knows you are, too. He’s held onto these feelings for a long time now, and they aren’t so easily forgotten, even through the pain of heartbreak. I’m sure that you’ll find your way back to each other, in whatever capacity feels right for you both.”

He can feel the tears welling up behind his eyelids, though he does his best to hold them back. “I hope you’re right. I can’t lose him, not after all this. I just wish this wasn’t so complicated. I care about him so much, and I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. I don’t know why I’m struggling so much with this, but I feel like there’s so much at stake here, and I’m terrified of what could happen if I’m wrong. I feel like either way I’m gonna fuck it up.”

The hand on his back stills, and a second later Nicole moves it back around to her lap before she twists her whole body and tucks one knee underneath her to sit sideways and face him better. She takes his left hand between both of hers and holds it in a firm grasp.

“Listen, Armie. I can’t tell you how to feel or what to do, but you don’t need me to. I think you have all the answers you need right inside you, but you’ve spent most of your life being told that the things you want are wrong, or that you are wrong for wanting them. And I think somewhere along the way, you started to believe that, and it led you to doubt your own feelings so much that you stopped being able to recognize them for what they really are. And that’s not your fault. But I think you’re struggling now because you don’t trust your own judgement enough to define the things you really want, and experiencing feelings you don’t know what to do with can be scary and make you doubt yourself even more. But you have the ability to decide if your feelings for Timmy are real love, and if they are, all you have to do is give into them, and the rest will work itself out however it’s meant to. It’s called a ‘leap of faith’ for a reason.”

Armie has been holding his breath for the entire time she’s been speaking, but at her last sentence, he lets it loose in an incredulous snort. “You make it sound so easy.”

Her face breaks out in a fond smile as she squeezes his hand. “Well, I never said _that_. But nothing in life that’s worth anything is easy. And as much as you think you don’t have the answers, you do. I think you’ve had them for a long time, you just haven’t allowed yourself to believe it. But I think when you got on that plane in the middle of the night and flew here, put your life on hold for weeks to be with Timmy every day, your heart already knew what it wanted. Now all you have to do is trust in what it’s been telling you all along and not let your head talk you out of what you know is true.”

Armie’s breath catches as the tears push further into the corners of his eyes. Something clicks into place when he hears it laid out like that. The missing piece of the puzzle that makes the picture whole and clear for the first time. What he and Timmy have has never been simple, but it’s always been _right_. He’s never questioned why, but now he understands it’s because he’d instinctively trusted Timmy with his heart from the moment they met, in a way he’d never fully been able to do with Liz. It just took a near-death experience and almost losing everything he holds dear for him to realize it.

“ _Oh fuck_.”

He hears Nicole chuckle softly beside him, and he can’t help but let out one of his own, the realization of everything is so overwhelming that he can’t hold it all in anymore. He turns to look at her, finding her eyes through his own which are bleary with the tears he can’t hold back anymore. They share a smile and she pulls him in for a hug against her chest, which he eagerly accepts.

The stay like that for several minutes until he finally pulls back with a small sniffle. When he sits back again, he’s suddenly hit with a sense of panic and urgency, knowing that he still has to work all this out with Timmy now that he’s sure of what he wants. He just hopes he isn’t too late. “Shit, ok, I gotta go talk to Timmy.”

Before he can push himself up, Nicole’s hand lands on his knee. “I tell you what, it’s already getting late, why don’t you stay here tonight, give this all a chance to really sink in first? Then you can go talk to him in the morning when it’s not so fresh. I know my son’s heart is strong, but it’s not unbreakable. And I know you would never intentionally hurt him, but you should give yourself time to be sure you’re truly ready to commit to this. For both of your sakes. It’s a big step.”

Despite his desperation to clear things up before it’s too late, he knows Nicole is right. If he goes over to see Timmy now, there’s still a chance he could mess things up even worse, and that’s the last thing he wants. He needs to think this through and figure out the best way to move forward with this new knowledge, be sure that he’s really ready for this leap, and hope like hell that Timmy is still willing to give them a chance.

“You’re right. This is too important to rush into, and I don’t want to fuck things up worse than I already have.” He pauses, taking a deep breath as he struggles to find the right words to express how he feels. “Thank you, for…everything. I wouldn’t blame you for hating me, and I know I don’t deserve your compassion, but…I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” He gives her a grateful smile, and the look she gives him in return makes his whole body flood with warmth, and he once again wishes he’d had her as a mother growing up.

“It’s my pleasure. And I could never hate the man my son loves, no matter what you may have done. These things aren’t black and white, and I know you have a good heart. You just have to learn to trust it.” She pauses for a second, giving him a warm smile. “You know where everything is, and you still have a key. You’re welcome here anytime, with or without Timmy.” Patting his knee softly, she leans in to place a small kiss on his cheek before pushing herself up off the couch.

Just before she rounds the corner to head into her bedroom, she turns back to look at him. “You know, I meant what I said that day. As far as I’m concerned, you’re already a part of this family. And if you ever want to make it official, I’d be damn proud to call you my son. Timmy has impeccable taste.” Giving him a wink and a grin, she disappears down the hall, and he’s left alone with a heart filled with more gratitude and love than he even knows what to do with.

As he makes his way into Timmy’s room, he thinks back to the first night he stayed here, and how much has changed in just a few short weeks since then. He settles on the bed and opens the drawer to the bedside table, taking out the picture he had discovered there in those first days. A million emotions rush through him when he looks at it now, but for the first time, he truly understands what they all mean, and he feels a sense of peace wash over him as he comes to terms with all that he knows now.

He spends the next couple of hours sorting through everything in his head, putting all the things from the past in their proper place and trying to figure out how best to approach the subject with Timmy in order to move forward, and when he finally slips into unconsciousness a while later, it’s the best night’s sleep he’s had in months.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh hi guys. *sheepish smile*
> 
> First, let me just apologize for the unintended hiatus and thank you all so much for your unending patience and all of the amazing comments and messages I've received inquiring about this fic over the past several weeks. It means so much to me knowing that it means so much to all of YOU and I truly mean it when I say it's the most motivating thing to know people are still interested and invested in your work. So really, thank you. <3
> 
> Instead of going into the long-winded and convoluted reason behind said hiatus, let's just say that 2020 sucks ass and continues to fuck with my carefully crafted plans. That being said, this is the final chapter of the main story of this fic, and that is both a huge relief and also a cause of great sadness. This fic might be the one I've worked on the longest in some form or another, and it will be very difficult to let it go. But we still do have the epilogue to go yet, which will be mostly smut, lol. But I'm going to work on completing that first before I try to do anything else with my other WIP. I want to close this out right and give it my full attention until the very end. I really hope you will like where I go with it, and that this long wait will have been worth it. 
> 
> Thanks for coming along on this journey with me. This was my first venture into hurt/comfort in this fandom, but it definitely won't be my last. Thanks to everyone who's been so encouraging and supportive of wanting to see more of this genre.
> 
> And now...I hope you enjoy the main climax of the story. <333

The next morning, Armie wakes to find that Nicole has made him French toast and coffee, and when she smiles warmly at him as he pads into the kitchen, he’s never felt so at home in his life. Except for maybe those few weeks in Italy five summers ago…

While he eats his breakfast, Nicole tells him about a new show she’s going to be in off-Broadway in the fall, and Armie’s heart fills with warmth and pride as he listens to her talk about her character with excitement. He’s grateful that she doesn’t ask him about his decision about Timmy, or bring up Liz or his life back in L.A., happy for the momentary distraction from the reality of what he’s about to do, and the impact it will have on his entire life.

Even though he knows how he feels now and is at peace with admitting it, he’s still nervous about having to talk to Timmy about it. He knows the way he’s handled things so far has hurt Timmy, and the last thing he wants to do is make it any worse. But he can’t go back to L.A. until he tells Timmy how he really feels, now that he’s sure of it himself. He has to try and salvage what they could have before it’s too late.

Once he finishes eating, Nicole gives him a tender kiss on the forehead and a soft smile. “Just be honest. Whatever happens after that, you’ll know where you both stand and can move forward from there.” Armie returns her smile and allows himself to be pulled into one last motherly hug before he thanks her profusely and heads out the door.

The fifteen minutes it takes to get from the Chalamets’ apartment to Timmy’s feel like the longest of his entire life. It doesn’t help that the traffic slows to a crawl less than a block away, and by the time the Uber finally pulls to a stop in front of the tall apartment complex, he’s about ready to jump out of his skin. He takes the next couple of minutes as he climbs the several flights of stairs to Timmy’s floor to try and calm himself back down, knowing that if he’s going to do this, he needs to do it right.

Wiping his sweaty palms on his black jeans, the ones Timmy once told him he thought looked really good on him, he takes a deep breath and raises one fist to knock on the door. He can hear Pauline’s cheery, “Coming!” from the other side, and he braces himself for having to face her for real this time. He’d escaped mostly unscathed during their last brief encounter, but he knows having to face her head on now won’t be as easy.

He counts the seconds in his head as a way to keep from becoming a nervous wreck while he waits. Just as he gets to eighteen the door swings open to reveal a slightly out of breath but smiling Pauline. The smile slips from her face the instant she registers who he is, though.

For a second they just stand in silence, Armie offering his most sincere look of contrition he can manage and Pauline glaring back at him, completely unmoved. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she takes a step back and crosses her arms over her chest. “Thought you’d be halfway back to L.A. by now.”

Armie lets out a low breath, trying not to lose his nerve before he even gets to talk to Timmy. “I – I almost was. But…I really need to talk to Timmy first. Just for a few minutes. Please.”

Pauline’s eyes narrow so much that he can hardly see the white in them anymore. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You had plenty of time to talk to him in the last two months. I think you need to respect his need for space right now before you do even more damage.”

A lump forms in Armie’s throat and he tries to swallow around it. He knew this wouldn’t be easy, but despite Pauline being half his size, she’s more than capable of making him feel all of two feet tall with her withering stare and dismissive reply. He knows she’s just being a protective big sister, and he can’t exactly blame her for her reaction.

“I know you have every reason to hate me, I would hate me, too, in your place. And I feel like shit about everything that happened, but I really need – “

“Let him in, Pauline.” A tired-sounding voice echoes from somewhere in the apartment, and Armie’s heart stutters in his chest at the sound. “It’s fine. Just…let him in.”

It takes another beat of Pauline glaring at him in annoyance before she finally lets out an exasperated sigh, unfolding her arms and moving out of the doorway so Armie can pass her and enter into the apartment. His eyes scan the space quickly to find where the voice had emanated from, finally landing on the living room couch where Timmy is sitting, his cast-covered leg propped up on the small coffee table in front of it and a PS4 controller in his hand.

Armie stops short when he sees him, heart pounding so hard he can feel it in his fingertips. Pauline brushes by him, muttering a quiet, “Don’t make me regret this,” before moving into the kitchen area to grab a bottle of water. Timmy doesn’t look up from his game to meet his eyes, even when Armie finally finds the strength to shuffle further into the apartment and stops a few feet from the couch. There’s a beat of awkward silence before Timmy finally takes pity on him and speaks.

“What are you still doing here, Armie? I thought you were going home.”

It’s not exactly the best way to start the conversation, but at this point he’ll take anything. “I was. Managed to get all the way to the airport before I realized that I’d left something pretty important behind.”

Timmy’s eyebrows furrow together, but his eyes still remain fixed on the tv and game. “Oh? That sucks. I hope you were able to get it back.”

Armie takes a slow breath in, fingers twisting in the hem of his shirt. “Well see, that’s the thing. It’s kinda here…with you.”

That seems to get Timmy’s attention, and he pauses his game and twists his upper body to face Armie more head-on, face contorted in confusion. “What are you talking about? I don’t have anything of yours here.”

Armie, feeling a sudden surge of confidence he has no idea the origin of, takes another couple of steps toward the couch, and Timmy. “Actually, you do.”

He can see the hint of annoyance blooming behind Timmy’s eyes, and yet somehow he’s not deterred in the slightest. He’s completely sure that this is what he wants, and he’s not about to let it go. “What is it?”

Without missing a beat, he gives the answer that he knows now is more true than anything else in the world. “My heart.”

He can see Timmy’s eyes widen, and then a sudden, choked off squeal hits his ears. It takes him a second to realize that the sound hadn’t, in fact, come from Timmy, but somewhere behind his left shoulder. Timmy’s eyes dart past him and over in the direction of the noise as he lets out a quiet sigh.

“I think I can handle things just fine from here, ‘line, thanks.”

There’s a bit of shuffling behind him and soft grumbling as Pauline makes her way out of the room, and Armie can’t help the explosion of breath that comes out of his mouth, trying not to pass out before he hears Timmy’s reaction to his proclamation.

After what feels like an eternity, he hears a door closing at the end of the hall and Timmy’s eyes finally find his again. Armie feels a lump form in his throat when he sees what he’s praying is a hint of hope swirling in the emerald orbs looking back at him. Timmy only hesitates for a second before breaking the silence. “Umm, you were saying?”

“Right.” The word comes out barely a whisper, more to himself than anything. He clears his throat and tries to shed the last bit of nervousness from his system as he moves forward, bending down to perch on the coffee table in front of Timmy so he can look directly at him when he speaks this time. Timmy raises an eyebrow and shifts his good leg under his body to accommodate Armie’s long limbs crowding into his space, but he remains silent and waits for Armie to continue.

“Right, yeah. Umm, so look, I know I’ve handled this entire situation terribly since the beginning. I’m in way over my head here, and I know I keep fucking everything up. Every time I thought we were back on solid ground something happened to shake it up again and I just didn’t know how to deal with it. And I’m not trying to make excuses, you deserve better than how I’ve treated you. I’m sorry for not seeing that what I was doing was causing you pain.”

Armie pauses, taking a deep breath and waiting for Timmy to say something. It’s a long minute before he does, green eyes studying Armie’s face so intensely that Armie feels like running from the room. But he forces himself to stay still until Timmy finally speaks. “Keep going.”

It’s not exactly the response he was hoping for, but he figures it’s better than being kicked out or yelled at, so he takes it as a positive sign.

“I came here because I wanted to fix what was broken between us, and to be here for you while you healed. But I don’t think I realized at the time that you weren’t the only of us that needed to be fixed. Being with you again, like we used to be, it’s the first time that I’ve felt truly alive in a really long time. And I didn’t even question it, it’s just how we’ve always been. But then when things started to change…I dunno, I couldn’t explain it but I knew that I didn’t want it to stop. I just didn’t know how to define it because it isn’t something I’ve ever experienced before. But I understand now. I know what this is and I’m ready to answer your question now.”

Before he can stop himself, he leans forward and grabs both of Timmy’s slender hands in between his own, squeezing them tightly. “I do love you, Timmy. I probably have since the moment we met, I just didn’t trust my own instincts enough to recognize it. But I know now, and I couldn’t leave without telling you, just in case there’s a still a chance we can fix this.”

Armie can see the war going on behind Timmy’s eyes, the desire to give into everything Armie is offering clashing with the need to guard his heart in case this turns out to not be real. He can’t exactly blame Timmy for being cautious, considering everything that’s happened until now, but he still can’t stop the pit that forms in his stomach as he watches Timmy’s eyes flick back and forth between his.

“And you’re sure about this? Not even twenty four hours ago you didn’t know how you felt but suddenly now you do? What changed?”

It’s not exactly an accusation, though it still feels like one. But even though it stings, Armie understands Timmy’s hesitancy. He hasn’t exactly instilled confidence in understanding his own feelings thus far and he probably wouldn’t believe him either if he were Timmy.

Letting out a slow breath, his lips twist up in a sheepish smile. “Well, I paid a visit to the smartest woman I know, and she set me straight, so to speak.”

Timmy’s eyebrows shoot up at that, and Armie has to stifle a laugh at how his face contorts in confusion as he tries to figure out who he was talking about, then a second later his eyes widen to an almost comical degree once he realizes. “You talked to my mother about this?”

Armie can feel the heat creeping up his face when he nods. “Yeah, I did.”

Timmy’s face shifts again, eventually settling into a mix between shocked and impressed. “That’s a bold move, Hammer.” There’s still a hint of hesitancy in his voice, but Armie can see him fighting back a grin as the corners of his mouth twitch up almost against his will.

Armie can’t hold back the tiny chuckle that slips past his lips as he feels the tension between them ease the tiniest bit. “Yeah, I know. Honestly, I figured she’d slam the door in my face.” He pauses, expression sobering. “But I knew this was important. I figured I could use a bit of motherly advice, and god knows I can’t exactly go to my own mother about this…”

He trails off and lets his eyes drop down to his lap, where his hands are still joined with Timmy’s. After a second, he feels the tips of Timmy’s fingers squeeze his lightly, and a spark of hope flutters through his chest. Lifting his eyes slowly to look back into Timmy’s, he sees them soften and glisten with the tiniest hint of moisture. “She is pretty great in that department.”

Armie’s chest tightens with emotion, and he tries to reign in his own tears that he can feel pushing their way to the surface. “The best.” There’s a beat of silence where they simply gaze at each other in quiet understanding before he continues. “Anyway, in true Mama C. fashion, she helped me realize that I already had the answer I was looking for, I just had to stop doubting what I knew to be true all along.”

“That you love me?”

A soft smile crosses his face when he hears Timmy say the words. “Yes.”

The wetness in Timmy’s eyes increases, and for a minute he doesn’t say anything. Armie can practically feel him battling the last bit of his uncertainty, and instinctively he understands that words aren’t enough anymore.

Before he can stop himself, he leans forward to close the distance between them and seals his lips over Timmy’s in a heated kiss. But when he hears the surprised grunt coming from Timmy in response, he thinks maybe he misjudged the moment and took things too far. Just as he starts to pull back, mind racing to think of a way to salvage this, he feels one of Timmy’s hands slip out from between his and land firmly on the back of his head, pulling him back to Timmy’s lips as they open on a soft moan beneath his own.

A burst of electricity races through him when Timmy’s tongue snakes out to find his, and before he knows what’s happening, Timmy is shifting his legs open and practically pulling Armie on top of him on the couch as they continue to kiss passionately. He goes willingly, careful not to jostle Timmy’s cast too much as he shifts his weight forward to bring their upper bodies flush together.

Armie gives himself over to the feeling of Timmy’s lips on his, the heat of Timmy’s breath as it mixes with his own, the gentle tug of Timmy’s fingers in his hair, the way Timmy can’t stop from making tiny sounds of pleasure that Armie promptly swallows as they devour each other hungrily.

Just as Armie is about to reach for Timmy’s shirt because suddenly there are far too many layers of clothing between them for his liking, the sound of a throat clearing loudly echoes from behind him. They both instantly freeze, Armie’s eyes opening in shock to find Timmy’s very distinctly annoyed ones looking back at him before they flicker past his shoulder.

“I’m gonna go on a grocery run. You want me to add anything to your list? Cereal, deodorant, _condoms_?”

The sound of Armie’s surprised cough at the mention of the last item is not entirely covered up by Timmy’s irritated huff at his sister’s intrusion, _again_.

“ _I’m fine_ , thanks. You can go now.”

He can hear the amusement in Pauline’s tone when she speaks again. “Ok, ok, going. I might be awhile so…you two have fun.”

If he were a braver man, Armie might turn and actually face Pauline head on with a response, either of relief that she seems to be ok with him again, or maybe a crude remark to her not-so-subtle insinuation, but as it is, all he can manage is a quiet snort as he watches Timmy’s face turn beet red while he struggles to come up with a reply to his sister facilitating him getting laid. But he’s not fast enough, because a couple seconds later the door shuts loudly behind them, finally leaving them completely alone.

He can’t hold back the punch of laughter that escapes once she’s gone. And then another one after Timmy smacks him on the arm. “How is this funny?” Timmy tries to keep his face screwed up in annoyance but Armie can see the hint of wild amusement dancing in his eyes. “I mean, I’m grateful she’s here to help and everything, but fuck if she doesn’t have the _worst_ timing ever.”

Armie lets out another soft chuckle, coming back to himself and the moment that had been interrupted. “Well maybe, but,” he pauses, reaching out to tuck a loose curl behind Timmy’s ear, “she loves you and obviously wants what’s best for you, so I can’t exactly be mad about it.” Timmy rolls his eyes but reluctantly lets out a grunting noise that Armie assumes is some sort of agreement to his statement. Armie grins and arches one eyebrow. “Plus, she _did_ let us have the place to ourselves, so I’d say she’s actually pretty awesome. Now…where were we?”

He pulls Timmy by his shirt until their mouths meet again, this time slower and more deliberate, tongues dancing together as they once again allow themselves to get lost in the heat of each other. It’s been a long time since Armie has just made out with someone, the passion between him and Liz having burned out long ago. It makes him feel heady and alive, every nerve ending sparking with the feeling of desire that he’d long since forgotten. He’d felt a milder version of it in Crema all those years ago, but he’d always attributed to character bleed and the intensity of opening himself up in such a terrifying way that was new to him as an artist. Now he realizes that it had much more to do with the person he was opening up to than the role itself.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, kissing and trading soft moans and gasps until Armie can feel himself growing hard. And when he breaks away from Timmy’s mouth for a much needed breath and looks down, he can see that Timmy is very much in the same predicament. Slowly, so that Timmy has a chance to stop him if it’s too much, he moves his hand up Timmy’s thigh and over to lightly cup the rather impressive bulge forming at his crotch.

Timmy bites out a quiet, “Fuck,” and the sound goes straight to Armie’s dick, and he can feel the fabric of his pants begin to strain against his growing erection.

He places a small kiss on the side of Timmy’s mouth before letting out a breathless huff. “You think it’s too late to tell Pauline we changed our minds about the condoms?”

Timmy snorts and bites his chin, which then prompts Armie to push his hand down farther on Timmy’s cock. The whimper he gets in response is more satisfying than he ever could have imagined. “Or if you already have some here, even better.”

He starts licking and sucking his way down Timmy’s neck as he carefully moves his hand in a slow circular motion over Timmy’s cock, delighting in the way it makes Timmy shiver under his touch. He continues like that for another minute until Timmy suddenly pushes him back.

“Fuck, I…I can’t.”

Armie’s eyes are half glazed over with lust, and the sudden halt to the proceedings makes it hard to concentrate. “What?”

Timmy lets his head drop against the back of the couch as he lets out a frustration groan. “I can’t have sex. I mean…I _can_ , I’m just not _supposed_ to.” When Armie just blinks at him in confusion, Timmy lets out another groan. “This stupid fucking… _thing_!” He gestures to his cast-covered leg, and suddenly Armie begins to understand. “The doctor told me I should take it easy. Not do anything too strenuous, just to make sure it finished healing properly. And sex is…well I’m assuming it falls into that category. _Fuck_!”

Despite the situation not being ideal, hearing how upset Timmy is at the prospect of them not being able to fuck actually makes him even _more_ aroused. His cock aches as it pushes insistently against its denim cage and he can feel how hard Timmy is beneath his hand, too. Suddenly he remembers the thing he couldn’t stop thinking about after he’d jerked Timmy off that day in the hospital and he has an idea.

He brings his mouth to Timmy’s once more, planting a gentle kiss on his lips as he tries to alleviate Timmy’s frustrations. “Well, just because we can’t do _that_ , doesn’t mean we can’t do _anything_. And there’s something I’ve been dying to do for weeks now.”

Without any more explanation, Armie slides off the couch and onto his knees on the floor in front of Timmy, carefully propping Timmy’s broken leg on the table behind him as he settles into position. Timmy watches wordlessly, eyes wide and mouth open in a silent gape as Armie gently slides Timmy’s sweatpants down far enough to free his cock. Timmy hisses as the cool air hits his bare skin, and Armie’s mouth fills with saliva at the thought of being able to taste Timmy, to finally quell his curiosity that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about since he had Timmy’s come all over his hand.

“Are…are you sure you want to do this?”

A grin spreads across Armie’s face at the question. “Did you know that when I went to clean myself up that day in the hospital, after I jerked you off, that I had the sudden urge to taste your come?” He watches Timmy’s eyes go wide at his confession. “I couldn’t figure out where it had come from it at the time, and it freaked me out so bad that I couldn’t go through with it, but ever since that day, it’s been there, in the back of my mind. Wondering what you taste like, regretting washing it all down the drain before I could find out. So yeah, I’m sure I want to do this. _Very_ sure.”

Timmy’s mouth snaps shut as he swallows hard, dick throbbing against his stomach. “Fuck, Armie. You never said anything…”

Armie reaches out to grab the base of Timmy’s cock, closing his fingers around it in a loose fist. “I wasn’t ready to think about what it might mean. But I think we’re well past that point now.” His grin gets wider as he leans forward, bringing his lips to the tip of Timmy’s now leaking cock and presses a small kiss there. When he swipes his tongue out to lick the bead of precome that’s gathered at the tip, he nearly comes in his jeans when the first taste of _Timmy_ hits him. It’s like a nectar of the gods, and he needs _more_.

Timmy’s hands are instantly buried in his hair, a low moan echoing out when Armie’s tongue makes another pass over the tip of his cock. Armie begins moving his hand up and down the base a few times before he opens his mouth wide and slowly slides his lips down as far as he can without choking. Timmy’s surprised gasp only spurs him on, and he relaxes his throat enough to take in another half inch before he pulls back up and off.

After he catches his breath, he takes Timmy in his mouth again, this time not quite as far, and starts making shallow bobs up and down as he gets used to the taste and weight of Timmy’s cock as it slides in and out of his mouth. When he dares to flick his eyes up after a couple minutes, Timmy’s head is back against the couch again, long, delicate neck on full display, and Armie’s mind is suddenly filled with images of all the ways he wants to mark that neck, to claim the tender flesh for his own.

He can’t hold back the moan that thought produces, and the sensation of the vibrations sends Timmy’s head shooting up, eyes locking with his as Armie continues to suck him. He can feel Timmy’s dick twitch in his mouth as they gaze at each other, all the years of pent up heat and desire finally allowed to come to the surface, and it’s one of the hottest things he’s ever experienced. 

Timmy’s fingers tighten in his hair, and his breathing starts picking up in the way that signals he must be close. Timmy tries to keep eye contact through it all, but eventually they slip closed in ecstasy, and Armie thinks that might be just as hot. He puts all his energy into making sure Timmy feels good, running his tongue along the underside as he moves up and down, adding just the barest hint of teeth every once in a while, which earns him the most exquisite moans in reward. His own eyes slip closed as well, losing himself in Timmy’s taste and scent as they completely fill his senses.

After another couple of minutes, he feels Timmy’s thigh muscles tense up, and there’s a sharp tugging in his hair. “Armie…Armie, I’m gonna…”

It’s all the warning he gets, but he makes no move to pull off, eager to finally get the answer to the question that’s been plaguing his mind for weeks. The first spurt of come hits the back of his throat and he can’t help but cough a little in surprise. But the next round lands square in the middle of his tongue, and suddenly his taste buds are saturated with _pure Timmy_. It’s slightly bitter and earthy, but he can taste a hint of citrus mixed in, and somehow it’s everything he ever could have wanted.

Once he recovers from the overwhelming taste attack, he hungrily sucks down every drop of come that Timmy gives him, and when there’s nothing left, he continues to lick and suck until Timmy makes a quiet noise of displeasure, his dick becoming oversensitive after the intensity of his orgasm.

Armie allows himself one more gentle lick around the head before he pulls off, laying his cheek on Timmy’s thigh as he tries to catch his breath. After a minute, Timmy reaches down to stroke his cheek, his fingertips dancing lightly over his swollen lips. “Fuck, where did you learn to give head like that?”

Armie huffs out a breathless chuckle. “Beginner’s luck, I suppose. You were definitely my first. I take it I wasn’t horrible?” He angles his head back so he can look up into Timmy’s eyes, lips turning up in a self-conscious smile.

“Jesus Christ, Armie. No, you were definitely _not_ horrible. You were the opposite of horrible.” Suddenly he’s being pulled back up onto the couch and Timmy’s lips are on his, licking into his mouth and tasting himself on Armie’s tongue. It’s glorious and hot and he feels like he could do this forever.

And then Timmy’s mouth is gone, moving down his body as he goes to return the favor. And even though Armie is dying to have Timmy’s mouth on him, he remembers what Timmy said before and catches his before he reaches Armie’s cock. “Wait, wait. I appreciate the sentiment but you’re under strict orders to take it easy, and far be it from me to be the one to go against doctor’s orders.”

Timmy looks up at him like he’s grown a second head. “I can still use my mouth, dude. It’s not going to screw up my leg to suck you off.”

And maybe Timmy’s right, maybe he’s overreacting and it would be fine. But after everything they’ve been through, all the times he’s managed to fuck things up or break things between them, he doesn’t want to take the risk now, not when they’re so close to having everything. He needs Timmy’s body to mend itself fully so that he can feel like they’re starting on solid ground.

“I…I know this probably sounds dumb but please just trust me on this one. It’s fine, I’ll take care of it this time. And then when you’re totally healed, you can go down on me all day and night, I promise never to stop you again.”

Timmy gives him an unconvinced look for several beats before he finally relents, blowing out a long breath and settling back into the couch. “Ok, fine. But don’t think I won’t hold you to that promise. I happen to love sucking dick, and you’re depriving me of it out of some crazy misplaced protectiveness.”

The pout on Timmy’s face is quite possibly the most adorable thing he’s ever seen, and he can’t help but lean in and kiss it. “Duly noted,” he whispers into the space between them as he pulls back with a grin. Timmy rolls his eyes but he can’t quite stop the corners of his mouth from twisting up.

Timmy’s eyes roam down Armie’s body and land on his still hard cock, and suddenly Armie remembers how urgently he needed to come still. “That looks painful.”

It’s a simple sentence, one that shouldn’t have any effect on him whatsoever. And yet the heat in Timmy’s voice when he says is lights a fire low in his belly and suddenly he needs to come _right now_. He almost rips the jeans in an effort to free his dick faster, pulling it out and gripping it tight with his right hand as Timmy takes hold of his left, fingers slotting through each other and squeezing as a way of being connected while Armie starts to jerk himself fast and rough.

It only takes a couple minutes before he’s panting heavily, right on the edge of oblivion. Suddenly Timmy reaches out with his free hand and covers Armie’s over his cock, working him together in a frantic pace as he racing toward the edge. Armie turns to look at him, eyes locking together as he can feel the heat passing between them, a promise of things to come.

Another few strokes and he’s coming, long ropes of white shooting over his stomach and chest, covering both of their hands in the sticky mess. When he’s finally wrung dry, Timmy doesn’t even hesitate before bringing his come-slick hand up to his mouth and licking it clean. Armie’s mouth falls open in a stunned gape, and his dick gives one last feeble twitch at the sight of Timmy so easily doing what he should have done weeks ago.

“Fuck.”

Timmy pauses mid-lick, giving him the most devilish grin he’s ever seen. “Not yet, but believe me, there will be _lots_ of fucking in our future. I hope you can keep up, old man.” He winks and continues licking off the last remnants of Armie’s come from his fingers like he’d never even stopped.

If Timmy wasn’t injured, Armie would have tackled him to the ground for that comment. But he decides to take a subtler approach for his revenge instead. He leans over to put his lips against Timmy’s ear, murmuring softly. “Oh don’t worry about me. It’s your tiny little ass you should be concerned about. Stretched wide around my thick cock, you think you can keep up when I’m fucking you within an inch of your life, gasping for air while I pound into you? I dunno, Tim, not sure you can handle it.”

The shiver that runs through Timmy is so delicious, there’s a part of him that wants to fuck him right there on the couch, doctor’s orders be damned. But he knows that the wait will make it all the sweeter when they’re finally able to fuck their brains out without having to worry.

“That’s not fair.” Timmy’s pathetic whimper makes his chest fill with affection and love, and somehow he knows that they will be ok. He hasn’t figured out the particulars yet, but he can feel how right this is, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to make it work.

And it’s like Timmy is reading his thoughts, because a beat later he turns to meet his eyes. “So…what now? I mean, with us? How is this gonna work?”

Armie lets out a quiet sigh, situating himself more comfortably on the couch and pulling Timmy into his arms, Timmy’s back flush against his chest. He places a soft kiss below Timmy’s ear before he speaks. “Honestly? I don’t know yet. I haven’t really made any sort of plan. My first order of business was making sure you still even wanted this, but I hadn’t really figured out much beyond that yet.” Timmy’s quiet, but he nods lightly, snuggling further into Armie’s embrace. “Obviously I have to talk to Liz before I do anything else. Get the divorce process started. For all I know she already has the papers drawn up. I don’t think she’ll put up too much of a fight. She knows it’s over.”

Another nod, and Armie tightens his hold around Timmy’s waist, nuzzling his nose into Timmy’s soft curls for a minute before continuing. “I know that I want this, want _us_. I don’t know how it will work, but I want to try. I love you, Timmy. And it’s unlike anything else I’ve ever felt for anyone in my life. And I will do everything I can to make you happy. I don’t want to be broken anymore. I want to be whole, with you.”

There’s a long stretch of silence, and for a split second he fears maybe Timmy doesn’t feel the same, or doesn’t believe that he’s serious. But then he can feel Timmy’s shoulders begin to shake slightly, and he reaches up to gently turn Timmy’s chin to look back at him.

When he sees the tear streaks down Timmy’s cheeks, his eyes glimmering in the soft light as another drop slips past his eyelid, Armie’s heart seizes in a sudden panic. “Christ, Tim, why are you crying?”

It takes Timmy a few beats to compose himself enough to respond, but when he does, it’s not what he’s expecting at all. “It’s just…I’ve been waiting for five years for you to say that. This whole time, I didn’t realize how much I had been missing the piece of my heart that you’d taken with you when we left Crema. And now I feel like it’s finally whole again.”

The revelation that he hasn’t been the only one who felt broken and incomplete all this time makes his breath catch in his throat and his heart squeeze with all the love he feels for Timmy. He brings their lips together in a soft kiss, unhurried and full of warmth. And just like that, he feels that piece of his own heart that’s always belonged to Timmy click back into place, and the feeling of loving Timmy with his _whole_ heart is like nothing he’s ever known before. 

It hits him then that they were the only ones who could truly heal each other, and as he kisses Timmy’s temple and holds him tightly, he knows they can survive anything as long as they face it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! And the epilogue will be along soon! And by "soon", I don't mean another 6 weeks, I promise, lol.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dearest readers, 
> 
> We have finally reached the end of this journey, and I cannot thank you enough for coming along with me. For all the amazing encouragement and support and love you've shown for this story, for being so incredibly patient in waiting for updates that sometimes took longer than expected, and for just being such a wonderful community overall. It's a pleasure to write stories in this fandom because you readers are always so supportive with feedback and overall enthusiasm for fics. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
> 
> This little (heh, or not-so-little) epilogue is mostly just smut, since I hadn't allowed the poor boys to get it on officially in the rest of the main story. XD But I hope you enjoy it and how I've left the boys at the end of this story. But it is far from the end of THEIR story, *that* is just beginning. So who knows, maybe we'll be hearing from these two again at some point in the future. ;)
> 
> And just a special shout out to those of you who have listened to me whine and bitch and cry and moan about my stalled progress on this fic for the past several months, and who have helped with feedback or other encouragements as I struggled with a most unpleasant mix of wicked writer's block and depression. I wouldn't have gotten through it without you, and you know who you are. I'm forever grateful for your wonderful support and friendship.
> 
> And here's to my girl lydsir1985, I hope the epic rimming in this chapter suits your needs. ;) Xoxo

As Armie watches the streets of New York pass by rapidly in the car window, he can feel his anticipation rising with each block that brings him closer to Timmy’s apartment. To distract himself from flying out of his skin, he thinks back on the past two weeks, which held some of his happiest moments of his life so far, but also some of the saddest.

He’d stayed with Timmy for the first 3 days, the two of them exploring the new facets of their relationship, both emotionally and physically, as much as they were able. After another round of epic pouting from Timmy, Armie eased up on his mother hen routine and gave Timmy permission to blow him, which Timmy did eagerly. Afterward, Armie cursed himself for making such a big deal about it before, because Timmy has some major skill in that department and he should take advantage of it whenever possible.

But they were still mindful not to get too carried away, just to be on the safe side. Lots of heated makeouts and hand and blow jobs, as well as long minutes of just languidly exploring each other’s bodies with hands and mouths, lying together in the peace and quiet of Timmy’s bedroom, oblivious to the busyness of the city that trundled on outside. 

When they weren’t exploring the physical side of things, they talked, _a lot_. About what they wanted for the future, _their_ future. The things that were most important to them in a relationship, and how to handle things with both of them being in the public eye. They’d decided things were too new to risk the public scrutiny of coming out right away, but they also didn’t want to hide forever. In the end, they decided that when the time was right for both of them, they’d make a plan to take that step, and for now they would find a way to ensure they were protected from the pitfalls of homophobic Hollywood while they figured everything else out.

Pauline came over once a day to make sure they were still alive, but otherwise, Armie took over the responsibility of helping Timmy around the apartment for those few days. The day before he left to go back to L.A., he and Pauline had a long, frank conversation about everything while Timmy was taking a nap. At the end of it, Pauline gave him a tight hug and confessed that she’d hated having to hate him, so she was glad they’d been able to work everything out. He stopped by the Chalamet’s apartment on the way to the airport to say one last thank you, even though he knew he would be back in the city soon.

He’d been right about Liz having the divorce papers already drawn up when he arrived back in L.A. He’d called her that night after he and Timmy had officially started things for real, and while it obviously wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear, she took the news as well as he could have expected. They both signed the papers without much fuss, and other than a few short conversations about how the logistics of how to split things, they didn’t talk much for the week and a half he was there getting his stuff ready to move to the condo. 

The one longer conversation they had was about the kids, and they both decided it was fair to make sure they both had as equal amounts of time with them as possible. And he and Timmy had already decided that they’d need to spend more time in L.A. than New York, at least while the kids were still young.

The conversation he had with the kids was the hardest part of all, and he was barely able to hold himself together while they cried and asked a million questions that he didn’t have answers for that they would understand. But once it was over, and the kids were safely tucked into bed with the promise that he still loved them and would always be there for them no matter what, he called Timmy and let himself cry for the next hour while Timmy murmured soft words of comfort to him from 3,000 miles away.

He arrived back in New York the day Timmy was scheduled to get his cast off, and though Armie had wanted to be there with him when he took his first few completely free steps, Timmy had insisted that he wanted Armie to wait until he got home so the first time they saw each other again was a fresh start. Armie couldn’t argue with his logic, so he’d booked the first flight that would get him into the city as soon after Timmy’s appointment as possible.

Now he’s a block away from having Timmy in his arms again and he’s trying to keep his heartrate from reaching dangerous levels. The amount of time he’s had to think about how their reunion would go is enough to have him going half mad, and by the time the Uber stops in front of his destination, he practically jumps out and runs up the stairs like his life depends on it.

He takes half a beat when he reaches Timmy’s apartment door to catch his breath, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he mentally prepares for what he knows is waiting for him on the other side of the door. As he raises his fist and knocks firmly, he can feel the heat of desire pooling low in his belly. During their last phone call before Armie got on this plane early this morning, neither of them had bothered to hide the fact that their first order of business upon Armie’s arrival would be to fuck their brains out now that they didn’t have to worry about being careful. And Armie was completely on board with that plan.

The door is hardly even all the way open before a squealing mess of limbs launches into his arms, and Armie just barely keeps them both upright as he steps across the threshold of Timmy’s apartment and somehow manages to kick the door closed.

“You’re here, you’re really here!” Timmy is already breathless, having immediately attached his mouth to the side of Armie’s neck once he’d determined Armie wasn’t going to drop him.

Armie lets out a small chuckle as he waddles another few feet inside the apartment to lean his back against the kitchen counter. “Of course I’m really here. There’s nothing short of the apocalypse that could have kept me from being with you today.”

“Well the end of the world will just have to wait, because you’re finally mine, and I’ve waited too long to have anything fuck it up now.” Timmy’s lips finally find his as they share a heated kiss, and all other thoughts evaporate from Armie’s mind as he focuses on the feel of Timmy’s body flush against his, something he’s come to crave in ways he never knew were possible until recently.

After a long minute, Timmy finally pulls back and slides down from Armie’s arms. Armie is already slightly lightheaded from the kiss, but when Timmy looks back up at him, pupils blown wide with lust and teeth biting at his lower lip, the image of pure seduction, he has to grip the counter behind him until his fingers turn white just so he doesn’t pass out when all his remaining blood rushes straight to his dick.

“ _Fuck_ …”

A tiny giggle escapes Timmy’s lips as they turn up in a wicked grin and he nods slowly. “Yeah, that was kinda the idea.”

Armie’s brain is having trouble making sense of the words coming out of Timmy’s mouth, too distracted by the sudden and urgent throbbing between his legs, but when Timmy suddenly grabs him by the shirt and pulls, _hard_ , he manages to get the idea and stumbles forward, following Timmy as he leads them very determinedly to the bedroom.

Timmy’s barely through the bedroom doorway when he starts stripping off items of clothing, shirt flying across the room seconds before his pants and underwear are yanked off in one swift movement and discarded on the floor halfway to the bed. Armie is still trying not to trip over his own feet when Timmy helpfully tugs his shirt up and over his head, frantic fingers undoing his fly and shoving his pants down to his knees just as they reach the bed. 

Timmy falls backwards onto the mattress, pulling Armie on top of him as they land awkwardly in a tangle of limbs. But it doesn’t seem to faze Timmy in the slightest, wrapping his arms around Armie’s neck and kissing him hard for a few seconds before scooting himself up further onto the bed to get into a more comfortable position.

Armie takes the opportunity to kick his pants and boxers the rest of the way off, letting them drop to the floor beside the bed. When he turns back around, he finds Timmy half sitting-half lying against the headboard, legs spread wide, one hand moving over his very hard and already leaking cock. Armie almost chokes on his tongue at the sight, and he can’t believe they’re finally here. They’ve spent the past few months healing both physically and emotionally, and now they’re finally able to come together without any barriers separating them.

Crawling back up the bed, Armie situates himself between Timmy’s legs and tries not to get too distracted by the sound of Timmy’s hand on his dick as he spreads the copious amount of precome all down the length of the shaft. But as soon as Armie is settled, Timmy releases his hold on himself and leans up to capture Armie’s mouth again, and Armie almost has a hard time keeping up with Timmy’s frantic movements, until suddenly he feels something small being pushed into his palm.

It only takes him a second for him to recognize the shape and identify it as a tube of lube, and his dick throbs in anticipation. And then Timmy lets out a desperate sound and breaks the kiss, moving his mouth to Armie’s ear and huffing out, “Fuck me, Armie. Need you inside me, please.”

And he’s definitely on board with that. But as he watches Timmy fall back against the mattress and pull his knees up to his shoulders, holding them open wide for Armie to have the most glorious view of his rock hard dick and his smooth, perfect ass, something hits him. Despite the urgency he felt just moments earlier, there’s no actual reason for them to rush through this. 

And he doesn’t want to, either. He finally has Timmy, _all_ of Timmy, to himself, and the next three weeks with nothing to do but memorize every inch of Timmy’s body so that when he has to return to L.A. to be with the kids, Timmy is there with him, permanently ingrained in every one of his senses.

As he rakes his eyes over Timmy’s whole body, spread open in invitation just for him, he has an idea for something he wants to try. Something they hadn’t yet explored in their few brief days together a couple weeks ago, and something he never would have considered doing with anyone else, but somehow now that the thought has entered his mind, he suddenly has an aching need to do it with Timmy.

After taking a slow breath, gathering his courage to make his next move, he slowly trails his eyes back up to meet Timmy’s, which are completely blown with lust as he waits for Armie to prepare him. He waits a beat, keeping their eyes connected so he knows Timmy is fully with him. “Do you trust me?”

The instant answer of “yes” leaves Timmy’s lips almost before Armie finishes the question, and Timmy nods his head enthusiastically as an added affirmation so there’s no room for doubt. Seeing the eager way Timmy responds to him, no hesitation whatsoever, makes his heart clench with emotion. He’s not sure what he did to deserve this kind of devotion, but he vows to never take it for granted.

“Ok good. That’s good.” Keeping his eyes trained on Timmy’s, he very deliberately sets down the tube of lube on the bed next to him. He’s sees the question in the way Timmy’s eyes widen slightly, the way his eyebrows draw together. But before Timmy can ask, he reaches forward with one hand to cup the underside of Timmy’s right knee, gently pulling it from where Timmy was holding himself open and moving it so he could place open-mouthed kisses along the soft skin of his leg, pausing when he gets to the place where the fracture had been that had taken so long to heal completely, affording them the time to get to the place they are now, together. He takes a minute to just slowly rub his cheek along that spot, before turning his head to press the most tender, loving kiss there. He hears Timmy’s quiet gasp and subsequent whimper when his tongue swipes out to taste the skin for a minute before he finally moves on.

He gives the same treatment to the other leg before moving them both down to lay on either side of him on the mattress. “I know you are eager to get to the fucking, but I want to try something first. Will you go with me?” His hand moves to run along Timmy’s side until he reaches his hip, nudging under it gently in a signal for Timmy to turn over. Timmy eyes him skeptically with a hint of impatience for a beat before finally letting out a long breath and nodding slowly, shifting his body around so that he is laying on his stomach. He remains quiet, obviously curious about what Armie wants to do but not questioning him.

Once Timmy settles and he’s sure there won’t be any last minute protests, Armie scooches back a few inches and gets himself in position for what he wants to do. First, he starts by running his hands all over Timmy’s silky back, savoring in how amazing the soft skin feels against his palm. He continues his journey down to the dip in his waist, then further until both of his palms are filled with the most perfect, tiny ass Armie has ever seen. 

Slowly, he starts to knead the soft flesh, carefully pulling the cheeks apart little by little as he works them over. He receives a couple of muffled moans of encouragement from Timmy in the beginning, but otherwise he remains silent, allowing Armie to experiment as he likes. Armie marvels at the stretch and bounce of each ass cheek as he pushes them apart and then they come back together, and his mouth instantly starts salivating at what he wants to do next.

Bending down, he pulls Timmy’s cheeks as far apart as they can go and waits for a long minute, staring at the most intimate part of Timmy’s body, that Timmy has offered to him so eagerly, trusting that Armie will never hurt him. And while that’s completely true, he wants this experience to be so much more than that. He wants Timmy to feel loved, cherished, adored in ways that words can’t do justice. As he takes a deep breath in, he closes his eyes and leans forward, overcome with love for the man in front of him and willing to do literally anything to show it.

The first burst of taste as he licks around Timmy’s rim is almost overpowering. It’s not a bad taste by any means, it’s just so different than the other parts of the body that he’s already experienced that he has a hard time processing it. The intimacy of the act is unlike anything he’s ever done with anyone else, and he knows he will never be closer to another person than he is with Timmy right now.

At the first unexpected touch of tongue to his ass, Timmy’s whole body jerks forward and he lets out a mewling sound like Armie has never heard before. Armie freezes, praying that he didn’t just cross a boundary that Timmy wasn’t ok with, or that this particular act isn’t one he hates.

He shoots his head up enough so that he can meet Timmy’s eyes when Timmy turns his head to look back at him. Timmy’s eyes are wide and he’s panting like he just ran a marathon, and Armie has no idea if that’s a good or bad thing. “Everything ok?”

Timmy’s eyes get even wider, to the point of being almost comical. “ _Ok_?! Jesus fuck, Armie! Warn a guy before you start eating his ass!”

The expression makes him want to laugh but the sudden fear that maybe Timmy wasn’t into this stops him. “Ok sorry, sorry. I wanted it to be a pleasant surprise. Have you…has anyone ever done this for you before?” It suddenly dawns on him that maybe this is new for _both_ of them, and perhaps it’s something they should have discussed beforehand.

A splotch of pink creeps up Timmy’s face at the question. “Umm, yeah. I have. But it’s just been…a _really_ long time. And with this being our first time…I just wasn’t, ya know…expecting you to go there.”

A hint of relief runs through Armie at Timmy’s answer, at least knowing he hadn’t done something Timmy was uncomfortable with. But still, he’s not sure how to proceed now. “Do you, um…want me to stop?”

“NO!” The reaction comes so quickly and so forcefully that Armie actually jumps. I mean,” Timmy’s voice returns to its normal level as the pink on his cheeks deepens to a nice shade of scarlet. “Please don’t stop. I was just surprised, but I am totally up for it, if – if you are.”

This time, Armie can’t keep back the small chuckle at how adorable Timmy is, shyly asking him to continue to eat him out. He doesn’t even understand how he got to this place, where he’s dying to put his face in someone else’s ass. And yet, he can’t imagine being anywhere else in this moment.

“Oh yes, I am fully up for it.” His lips quirk up in a lewd smile, and now it’s Timmy’s turn to giggle. Now that they’ve gotten everything straightened out, Timmy turns back around and settles back into the mattress, pushing his hips up and back slightly so Armie has a better angle.

Armie waits a beat, trying to calm his heartbeat which had suddenly kicked up a notch in excitement. Then after taking a deep breath, he spreads Timmy’s cheeks wide once more, leaning in to lick a long stripe up from the base of his balls to his hole. The movement earns him a low moan from Timmy, which he takes as a good sign.

Having never done this before, he’s not sure of the exact best approach for pleasuring the other person, but selfishly he wants to drown in Timmy’s taste, so he takes his time just licking carefully around the edge of the rim, making sure he covers every last inch of skin as he goes. Using plenty of saliva to get things nice and wet, he mouths over the area, savoring the way Timmy’s body responds to the sensation.

When he’s satisfied that Timmy is wet enough, he places a gentle kiss to the peak of each of his ass cheeks and prepares for the next step. He feels the wet spot underneath his own body growing as he leaks onto the mattress, already so turned on from just the taste of the outside of Timmy’s ass, he’s not sure what will happen when he pushes inside. But he’s eager to find out.

Moving his face back between Timmy’s spread cheeks, he closes his eyes and leans in. His tongue circles the puckered rim a couple more times before finally pushing forward, and when the muscle gives way and Armie’s tongue slips inside for the first time, he hears Timmy gasp and let out a string of expletives, followed by a long, guttural moan as Armie pushes his tongue in further.

The tight heat surrounding his tongue is almost too much, and he has to reach down and press against the base of his dick in order to not lose control and come right then. He stays still for a few seconds, trying to get used to this new taste and sensation that’s making tiny fireworks explode low in his belly. Finally, he pulls back out, desperately needing air. And almost immediately, Timmy’s hips jut back, needy for Armie’s tongue to be back inside him.

Armie lets out a breathy chuckle and takes another deep breath, diving back in and pushing even deeper into Timmy this time. He moves his tongue experimentally side to side and curls it up, trying to loosen the muscle and help relax Timmy so that when his dick pushes in, it will hopefully not be too painful. Timmy seems completely on board, a fairly steady string of moans now spilling from him as Armie licks into him and swirls his tongue in all directions.

He continues on like that for several minutes, reveling in the feel and taste and the sound of Timmy’s pleasure echoing through the room and reverberating in his soul. Eventually though, he knows he needs to do more. His tongue alone won’t be enough to prepare Timmy for his rather thick cock, so once he feels like his tongue has done as much as it can on its own, he very carefully slides one long finger in alongside it, feeling the muscle stretch around him.

The noise Timmy makes when Armie’s finger enters him can best be described as primal, and the sound goes straight to Armie’s dick. He puts all his energy into not coming yet, but it’s becoming increasingly more difficult as Timmy becomes more vocal in his pleasure. And when he feels bold enough to crook his finger forward and happens to find Timmy’s prostate in the process, feeling the jolt of ecstasy it causes in Timmy is almost enough to send him careening over the edge.

He catches himself at the last second, but he knows he won’t last much longer if they continue on like this. So after one more round of licking as far into Timmy as he can, he removes his face from Timmy’s ass and continues to stretch him with his fingers, coating them liberally with the lube that he retrieves from where he’d set it earlier.

By the time he has three fingers sliding in and out of Timmy with relative ease, Timmy is rutting against the mattress, desperate for some kind of friction as he pants and moans into the pillow. As beautiful as the sight is of seeing Timmy coming completely undone in front of him, he knows he can’t wait any longer to be fully inside him in the way they’ve both been waiting for.

He wants to see Timmy’s face, though, so he turns him over to lie on his back again. Timmy’s whole face is dark red, a thin sheen of sweat covering his neck and chest. His pupils are blown wide and his lips are puffy from Timmy biting them while Armie’s face was buried deep in his ass to keep from screaming out in pleasure. Armie thinks it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen, and he can’t help but tell Timmy as much.

He’s not sure how it’s possible for Timmy’s face to get even redder, but somehow it does, and Timmy leans up on his elbows to clash their mouths together in a desperate, needy kiss. When Timmy pulls back, his eyes dance wildly back and forth between Armie’s, as if searching for something. Armie stills, waiting for Timmy to tell him what he needs.

“That was…fucking…amazing.” Timmy’s smile is so blinding, it sends sparks of warmth shooting throughout his whole body. “But I…I need you, _all of you_ , inside me now. _Please_.”

The needy whine that follows Timmy’s plea breaks something in him, and nothing on earth could keep him from giving this boy anything he asked for in that moment. He’d quite happily sell his own soul if that’s what Timmy wanted. “Fuck, _yes_.”

He brings their mouths together again in a slow but intense kiss for a long minute before releasing Timmy so he can settle back against the mattress. He slicks himself up with lube, which almost isn’t necessary considering the gobs of precome that have been steadily leaking from his dick since they started, but he wants to be absolutely sure he takes every precaution to keep Timmy from being in pain when he pushes inside.

Once they’re both ready, Timmy brings his knees up to his chest again in the same position he’d started in, and Armie slowly moves his hips forward. Thanks to the extended rimming session and the extra preparation and lube, he breaches the outer muscle fairly easily, and a pair of twin moans echo in the room as Armie pushes inside. About halfway in, he can feel Timmy clenching up around him for a few seconds before he forces himself to relax, and Armie is able to slide the rest of the way in without much resistance.

Armie holds still for a beat, wanting to make sure they both have time to adjust to the feeling, but when Timmy locks eyes with him and a small whimper escapes his throat, he knows he needs to move. He pulls all the way back out before pushing in again, this time he’s able to slide in smoothly the whole way and he pushes as deep as he can get, which makes Timmy’s eyes roll back in his head as he lets out a hissed, “Oh _fuck_ yes.”

After a few slow thrusts for them to get used to things, Armie starts a moderate pace of moving in and out, which Timmy seems to be quite happy with, judging by the sounds that keep coming out of his mouth. It doesn’t take long before Armie is already racing toward the edge of his orgasm, having been aching for release almost since the minute they were naked. Timmy seems to be in a similar state, if the pool of precome on his stomach and the almost angry red color of his dick is any indication.

Armie shifts his position so that he can balance on one arm, moving the other so that he can wrap his fist around Timmy’s cock and give him the friction he so clearly needs. Timmy’s eyes fly open at the first touch to his dick, and he locks eyes with Armie as Armie strokes him in time with his own thrusts.

It’s barely another minute before Armie feels Timmy clench and bear down on his dick as his orgasm rips through him. Timmy lets out a strangled cry as the first pulse of come shoots out and lands on his abdomen. Armie strokes him through it, keeping eye contact as Timmy comes apart beneath him until he’s completely spent and almost to the point of sobbing with pleasure. Armie can’t believe how excruciatingly beautiful Timmy looks like this, and knowing that he was the cause of it is enough to push him over the edge a minute later, pulsing deep inside Timmy as pleasure encompasses him and takes him to a place he’s never been to with anyone else.

When he’s totally dry, his dick twitching weakly as the last drops of come dribble out, he slumps over and just barely avoids crushing Timmy with his full weight when he can’t hold himself up any longer. Timmy makes a weak noise as Armie lands with a thud next to him, but he can’t seem to be bothered to open his eyes, too far gone in his blissed out state to even be fully aware of what’s happening.

Armie gives himself a minute to come down from his own high, gulping in air and trying to remember the last time he came that hard. He gives up when it becomes clear it was far too fucking long ago, and makes a mental note that if his and Timmy’s sex life ever starts to decline, they will immediately find a way to fix things before they deteriorate to the point where he and Liz got before the end.

Once his breathing is restored to normal, he looks around in search of a way to clean themselves up a bit. It’s clear by the fact that Timmy hasn’t moved at all in the past five minutes that there won’t be any showering until after they’ve slept it off a bit, but he doesn’t want to leave the entire mess for later. He knows from experience how unpleasant that can be.

Eventually he spots a towel hanging from Timmy’s closet door, and he summons all the strength he has left and rolls off the bed to retrieve it, bending over to wipe the mess of come from Timmy’s stomach and chest, as well as clean a bit between Timmy’s legs, seeing the wetness beginning to seep out from his hole and drip down his thighs. Timmy gives a small whimper in response but otherwise seems completely incapable of helping the process. Armie can’t help but smile at that thought, and when he finishes cleaning them both up as best he can, he crawls back into the bed and pulls Timmy into his arms, brushing back his mess of sweaty curls and kissing his forehead.

Timmy stirs slightly, a lazy smile crossing his face and he curls tighter against Armie’s body. “Mmm, ‘s nice.” Armie’s lips curl up in a matching smile and he waits until Timmy is sound asleep on his chest before he lets the pull of unconsciousness overtake him, too.

He wakes a little while later to the feeling of Timmy’s fingers curling into his chest hair above his heart. His eyes slide open and he angles his face down so he can meet Timmy’s eyes. “Hi.”

“You’re really still here.”

He says it with such a tone of disbelief that Armie isn’t sure what to make of it. Arching an eyebrow, he reaches down to slide one hand up and down Timmy’s back in a soothing motion. “Of course I’m still here. Where else would I be?”

He watches as Timmy worries his bottom lip between his teeth for a long minute before answering. “It’s just…while you were in L.A., I kept having these dreams. I would come home from getting my cast off and you wouldn’t be here. You decided that since I was fully healed, you didn’t need to be here anymore so you went back to your life in L.A. And I know it sounds crazy and it’s not real, but I couldn’t help but think that maybe part of you felt that way. That now that there’s nothing left for you to “fix”, you wouldn’t want to stay with me.”

Armie is speechless for a long minute as he takes in everything Timmy is saying. And as he thinks back to how Timmy had practically mauled him as he arrived, this new information puts his overeager reaction to Armie actually showing up in a whole new light. “Timmy, I think you’re forgetting one pretty important detail.”

Timmy shifts his face up to look at him from beneath his long lashes. “What?”

Armie can’t hold back the smile that breaks out on his face at how things have turned around so quickly so that he’s now the one so secure in how he feels and Timmy is the one questioning things. “Because it was never about “fixing” you. It was about us healing _each other_. And you did. You healed me when I couldn’t even admit how broken I was. And now that I have this with you, I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

He can see the tears welling up in Timmy’s eyes, and he catches the first one on his thumb as he gently swipes it across Timmy’s face. “I love you, too.”

When Timmy’s lips meet his, it feels like a promise, one that he’s more than willing to make. If he’s learned anything from all of this, it’s that a life without Timmy is not an option, and that whatever happens in the future, there’s nothing that can break them as long as they face it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and for every single comment, kudos, and other note of love you've left me for this fic. This story may be over, but you'll be hearing from me again, maybe sooner than you think. ;D


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